The Not So Good Girl
by Anastasia JoAn
Summary: Virginie is a transfer student from Beauxbatons.After having some fun with a Ravenclaw Quidditch player her sixth year,she and Draco Malfoy hit it off her 7th.Can she handle the Malfoys and their expectations?Rated M for LOTS of sex.Please read and review
1. New Beginnings

Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns everything.

Chapter One: New Beginnings

Virginie stood anxiously in the foyer of Hogwarts Castle, her thin Beauxbatons robes causing her to shiver in the vast, drafty interior of the castle. She shook uncontrollably, both from the cold and from her nerves. Though she had been here once two years ago, Virginie had never been forced to permanently live in this castle. Moreover, terrible things always seemed to happen at Hogwarts….but never mind all that now. Right now, the most important thing running through her mind was how different she looked, and she hated herself for it.

Born in France to a Pureblood wizarding family, Virginie had attended Beauxbatons Academy through last year—her fifth year of schooling, and this year, she would begin her sixth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, something that scared the _shit _out of her.

Because her father had begun a new job in London, they'd decided to relocate, and since Virginie had been frequently commuting between London and France for years, her accent was predominantly English…and she thought that she'd at least have that on her side, if nothing else.

She shivered once more, wondering why time seemed to be standing still. Inside the Hall, Minerva McGonagall was placing the Sorting Hat on anxious first years' heads. This Sorting Hat rather frightened Virginie, who was used to the single house at Beauxbatons.

Finally, Headmaster Dumbledore began to speak. "Welcome," he said, "to another year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Before we begin to eat, I'd like to announce the arrival of a new student, who joins us from Beauxbatons Academy. Let's please all welcome Miss Virginie de Gaulle, who will be sorted into a house in a few short moments."

Knowing this was her cue, Virginie walked slowly into the Great Hall, so slowly that she could feel her calf muscles twitch as her high heeled foot hit the stone floor. Her long, toned legs walked gracefully to the front of the hall, where a single stool sat. As she walked, she could hear students talking and whispering amongst themselves, probably wondering who the hell she was and why she was here. Virginie lifted her head haughtily and walked to the front of the room.

Professor McGonagall beckoned Virginie to the stool, and she sat, crossing her long legs. She could feel the eyes of each student upon her, but she did not let it phase her. Instead, she looked up at McGonagall, who placed the hat upon her head.

"Well well, Beauxbatons," the hat said, and Virginie jumped internally. "You are, therefore, most definitely…._RAVENCLAW!_"

Simultaneously, McGonagall took the hat from her head and a table to her right stood and began clapping. McGonagall motioned for her to walk toward them, and she did, joining the applauding students, who then all welcomed her graciously and sat.

From her vantage point, Virginie could see all the students of Hogwarts looking at Headmaster Dumbledore…all but one, who continued to stare at her. Though she was three tables away, Virginie could make out piercing grey eyes and a haughty expression, which rather matched her own, if she could judge how her expression appeared.

She knew the boy at once, of course, as she had met him two years ago. Draco something something, if she could remember correctly. He was, in fact, as haughty as she had thought by his expression, and she remembered he was quite taken by a complete _cow_, Pansy something, at the time. Anyway…she wished he would stop staring. She turned to Dumbledore and listened attentively, refusing to look back at him.

Later that week, Virginie sat at the library with Hermione Granger and Ginny Weasley, studying for a Potions quiz, which she assumed wouldn't be difficult, considering Slughorn seemed to have taken an immediate liking to her…he called her "savvy."

"Have you noticed…" Ginny began, "that Draco Malfoy is infatuated by you?"

Virginie looked up from her writing. "What do you mean?"

"Oh sod it, Virginie," Hermione said exasperatedly. "He never stops staring!"

"Would you two stop?" she said, her French accent peaking through as it always did when she was annoyed. "I do not like 'im, you two. Will you stop bozzering me? I do not! I will never!"

"Easy turbo," Ginny laughed as Virginie slammed her book shut. "I was just telling you. Besides, I doubt he has good intentions anyway."

"Oh I am quite sure of zat!" she exclaimed angrily, shoving her things into her bag.

Hermione laughed, closing her book as well. "Don't worry about it, V. Ginny was just saying…and me too, I mean he does stare quite a lot. We didn't mean anything by it, really."

Virginie sighed. "I know," she said quietly. "He just makes me very uncomfortable."

Ginny laughed, "But he is quite fuck-able."

"Ginny!" Hermione exclaimed.

"What!"

"You. Know. What."

"Oh sod it, Hermione, you're too good for your own good."

Virginie laughed and walked out of the library, Hermione in tow, for Potions.


	2. Sneaky Snake

Disclaimer: JK Rowling blah blah…

OOC Warning: If you're a big HBP fan, you probably don't want to read this. I mean, it totally goes against JK Rowling's plot. However, if you're willing to look at it a different way, then let me tell you, this fic totally kicks ass…(or it will, anyway. it's having trouble getting started).

Virginie held Chris's hand tightly as they walked to Hogsmeade for the first annual weekend. The two had quickly become a couple, spending many days together.

The two were almost inseparable, and though Virginie never liked serious, fawning relationships, she was drawn to Chris's impeccable looks and wittiness. At just over six feet tall, his hulky build overshadowed Virginie's thin, curvy limbs. The only thing similar was their height; at 5ft8, Virginie stood near to Chris in height. Other than that, however, they were complete opposites: Virginie with her stick-straight, highlighted blonde hair and blue eyes, and Chris with his lovely dark hair and deep chocolate eyes.

Today the two had planned to wander through the Hogsmeade shops and meet Hermione and Ron for a drink at the Three Broomsticks.

"How was your exam?" he enquired.

"All right," she answered airily. "I rather like Potions…it seems to come naturally to me. My mother once told me that at the age of three, I was attempting to brew _Felix Felicis_."

Chris laughed. "Well, at least one of us is smart." He poked her stomach. "…You've got the good genes."

She stuck her tongue out at him, and he reached over and bit it playfully. The two walked into Hogsmeade, the crisp fall air swirling their school robes in the light breeze. Virginie looked at Chris, smiling so warmly her cheeks burned from it. She'd never thought she'd have a boyfriend so quickly after coming to Hogwarts; in short, she'd known the boys would fancy her very much, but she had never expected she'd fancy any of _them_. The two walked into Zonko's, a mischievous smirk on Chris's face.

Two hours and many kisses later, they arrived at the Three Broomsticks, chilled by the cold. Hermione and Ron had already claimed a table in the corner and were currently sitting with their noses touching, kissing each other gently. Ron had his right hand buried in Hermione's hair and his left entwined with hers. Virginie and Chris looked at one another, embarrassed at intruding.

"Why hello," Virginie said, plopping herself down on a chair rudely, opening the contents of her purse and pulling a small hairbrush from inside. Chris returned shortly with her drink, and she sipped it gingerly, watching Ron blush and Hermione smooth her hair.

Chris was slowly rubbing her thigh, making her hum softly under her breath to keep from moaning. She tapped her foot softly on the floor, hoping to take away from the pleasure waves surging throughout her entire body. Soon the rubbing turned to massaging, and he moved further up her thigh, making her twitch. She shot him a look full of desire, wanting nothing more than to pin him to the small table, rip his robes off, and devour his entire body for hours.

"Ahem," Hermione said, clearing her throat. "So are you to going to the dance?"

"I hadn't thought of it," Virginie said, looking at Chris, who was still massaging her thigh with much enthusiasm.

"Hmm?" he enquired, obviously paying more attention to her thigh than Hermione's question.

"The dance?" she asked. "Did you want to go?"

"Oh, sure," he said, smiling. "Love to. …When is it?"

"Next week," Hermione said cheerfully, looking to Ron excitedly. "Professor McGonagall posted something in the Common Room; Ron and I noticed this morning. Dress robes and all that, it should be fun."

"Sure, I will go," Virginie said, rubbing Chris's arm. "And I will drag this big handsome fellow along with me, will I not?"

Chris blushed and kissed her quickly on the cheek. "Of course I'll go."

"Well I'm going to wear this new set of robes I bought," Hermione began. "They're red, and they…" she trailed off, looking at a spot over Virginie's shoulder. Both Chris and Virginie turned to look.

"What is it?" Virginie asked. "I do not see anything."

"Draco…" Hermione whispered.

"Draco!" Ron yelled, and Hermione belted him hard.

"Shut _up_, Ron!" she hissed, leaning toward Virginie. "Draco was right behind you, it was as if he was listening…"

"Well he probably was!" Ron exclaimed again, receiving another hit from Hermione. "This relationship is abusive, 'Mione! …Stop!" he cried, ducking from her small hits. "Well everyone knows that Draco wants to fuck her!"

They all stared at Ron.

"What!" he cried, rubbing his arm. "_Everyone _knows. Ev.er.y.one."

Chris looked annoyed, and Virginie stared blankly at the table. "But why?" she wondered aloud.

"Uhm, _duh_! Because you're _hot_!" Chris vehemently said, obviously annoyed with what Ron was saying.

Virginie blushed and stared down at the table.

"Well it's okay, Virginie!" Ron said, trying to be cheerful. "It's not as if anyone's forcing you!"

"I know, I know," she muttered, blushing fiercely. "It just…it pisses me off! I cannot go anywhere without that…that _boy_ following me around!"

"It's okay, babe," Chris said, putting his arm around her. "It's not like he's going to get to you. Besides having me, and Ron, and Harry, and Hermione, you're a great Occlumens. There's no way he can penetrate your mind."

"I know," she said, glancing around the pub. "It just PISSES. ME. OFF." She stamped her foot, grinding her heel into the hand that was resting beneath her seat. Draco screamed, and she knew she'd left her mark right where she'd planned.


	3. EVERYONE Does It Eventually

Disclaimer: JK Rowling is a goddess.

Author's Note: Hey, I didn't have much time to edit; I'll look it over and correct the errors in a bit, mmk?

Warning: Hey! Hey, you! Hey, you little person who's reading mature-rated fics when you aren't 17 yet! …This chapter has _SEX!_ Did you hear me? SEX! So take it easy, turbo. Just wanted to let you know so you didn't freak out.

Virginie, annoyed, grabbed her bottle of expensive French hairspray from the desk and began lacquering Hermione's wild hair. "Hermione, your hair is _the limit_, no?"

"I know, I know," Hermione testily replied, wincing as Virginie pulled and curled her unruly brown hair.

"It eez fine, it eez not your fault," Virginie tried, the annoyance still peeking through in the form of her prominent French accent. "You cannot help eet." She sprayed and set some more, and finally put the hairspray bottle back on the desk.

"Voila!" she announced, pulling off the towel she had wrapped around Hermione for protection against the hairspray.

"I loooove it!" Hermione squealed, feeling her hair and looking in the mirror.

"Ronald will not be able to keep his hands off of you, no? You will have lots of fun tonight…and if you don't, I'm sure I will more than make up for it for both of us," Virginie said, returning her hair products to their respective places and taking out her make up.

"Ron wouldn't get an erection if I lifted up my skirt and bent over in front of him," Hermione said bitterly, still touching up her hair.

"I do not know about that, Hermione," Virginie said, gingerly applying muted eyeliner. "Just to-day at lunch Ronald came to zee Ravenclaw table, and he wanted to know just what he had to do in order to get you into bed.

"Not that that is all he wants," she added, seeing Hermione's eyes flash. "He made that quite clear…it seems he thinks it is time you two progressed to the next level."

"Well," Hermione began, obviously embarrassed, "I rather think so as well."

"Very good!" Virginie said, throwing down the eyeliner to applaud Hermione.

"Oh stop," Hermione testily responded. "Just because you and Chris are like animals."

Virginie giggled, returning to the application of eyeliner. She chose a golden-hued eyeshadow and began applying it liberally as a base. "You know what they say about the French…

"All I know is, Chris and I have been getting a lot more action than you and Ron. So…get some!"

Hermione disappeared behind Virginie's changing screen, and said, "Well, tonight's the night, then? What did Ron say?"

"He said he has a nine inch cock waiting for you," Virginie yelled, causing Padma Patil, who was also applying make up, to giggle next to Virginie.

"Oh Virginie, _really!_" Hermione screamed from behind the screen.

"I could go on…" she offered.

"Please, no," Hermione said stiffly.

"All right. Well he said he knows a good place that you two lovebirds can go to tonight if you're interested. _Not _that I'm supposed to be telling you this."

From behind the screen, Hermione screamed.

"What!"

"I fucking zipped my fucking back!" Hermione bellowed. "I'm nervous now!"

"Oh, c'mon Hermione," Padma joined in. "It's just Ron."

"It's! Just! Ron!" she cried. "IT IS NOT JUST RON! I LOVE RON! I HAVE LOVED HIM FOREVER! THIS IS A VERY SPECIAL EVENT THAT IS SUPPOSED TO OCCUR BETWEEN US, AND YOU TWO ARE TREATING IT LIKE A _JOKE_. I AM OFFENDED! I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO!"

"Hey, calm down Hermione," Virginie said as she continued to apply her makeup. "You're very uptight…you really do need to get some."

Padma giggled and looked at Virginie, and they both turned as Hermione appeared. She looked stunning, wearing lovely deep wine coloured robes that had gold trim at the wrists and waistline.

"Lovely!" Virginie told her, walking behind the screen to don her own robes, which she was rather self-conscious about: the only dress robes she had were of a vibrant sky blue, and there was just one thin shoulder strap of small glistening diamonds, leaving the dress almost strapless. Though the dress was by no means showy, she felt as if it was due to the amount of skin she was showing compared to the Hogwarts' girls.

She stepped from the screen and both Padma and Hermione gasped.

"What?" she asked worriedly.

"You look bone-a-rrific! Those are lovely!" Padma exclaimed. "I wish I had some like that!"

"And I do as well!" Hermione breathed, moving closer to touch the glittering strap. "They're wonderful!"

"Thank you," Virginie answered honestly, looking at them both and searching for signs of falseness. None appeared.

The door to the girls' dormitories opened, and a second-year girl stuck her head in. "Uhm…Padma? Vir-ginn-y…uhm…Virg-inny?" she tried, then gave up. "Your dates are waiting in the common room."

After she shut the door, Padma said, "Good. They need to wait." She walked to her trunk and retrieved three glasses and a bottle of champagne, which she opened with her wand.

"To getting some cock!" she screamed, and Hermione spit her drink out while Padma and Virginie laughed and toasted each other.

Soon the three emerged from the Ravenclaw dormitories and walked down the stairs to the Common Room.

"I always love seeing the looks on my dates' faces," Padma said. "Let them eat their hearts out."

"For sure," Virginie replied, smiling down at Chris, whose jaw needed to be surgically replaced, it was hanging open so wide. She met him at the bottom with a big kiss, which he returned passionately.

"You look perfect," he told her, smiling with his nose touching hers.

"Thank you," she smiled back, wrapping her long arms around his neck and kissing him once more. "You don't look so bad yourself."

He offered his arm, which she took without hesitation. Padma and her date stood behind them as Chris offered his arm to Hermione as well, and she took it as they exited Ravenclaw Tower and headed down to the Entrance Hall, where Ron was to be waiting for Hermione. By the time they arrived, Hermione was shaking uncontrollably. As soon as she caught sight of Ron, she broke from Chris and Virginie and ran straight to him, giving him a small kiss on the cheek when she'd reached him.

"What's wrong with her?" Chris asked, kissing along her earlobe.

"Mmm…Ron wants to fuck her," she replied, squirming from his kisses.

" 'Bout time," he said, wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing her neck from behind.

"You're telling me," Virginie said as McGonagall appeared at the entrance to the Great Hall. Wordlessly, she waved her wand about the keyholes and the great heavy doors flew open, allowing them entrance.

Students flocked to various tables to first enjoy their meals. Chris and Virginie joined Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Dean, Harry and Luna at a table, Harry very conspicuously seating himself as far from Ginny as he could manage.

After dinner, Ginny and Dean left to dance, while Ron, Hermione, Harry and Luna stayed at the table with Chris and Virginie. Ron and Hermione were giving each other adoring gazes; so many, in fact, that Harry seemed to grow impatient and asked Luna for a dance. Chris shot her a look that melted her into a puddle on the floor and also asked if she'd like to dance. She accepted, and the two headed to the middle of the vast crowd that was gyrating to the sickeningly fast beat. As the music switched to a slower tune, Chris pulled her closer and put his hands just below her waist.

"Everyone's staring at you," he whispered into her hair.

"So what?" she whispered back, looking around to see that indeed, most of the Hogwarts boys were staring at her.

"So…you could have anyone."

Virginie bit just below his earlobe, causing him to shiver. "So what?" she whispered. "It's your cum I'll be swallowing tonight."

He laughed and shook his head. "You are one sick, sick woman," he said, kissing her.

"You know you like it."

"Never said I didn't," he smiled, pulling her closer.

They danced, holding on to one another tightly. After the round of slow songs ended, they turned to walk to their table, noticing the numerable stares they were receiving.

"Still wish they'd stop," Chris said, gripping her hand tighter.

"It's fine, darling," she said, rubbing his arm. "Would you get me a drink?"

"Sure," he said, pulling her chair out for her, then turning to get a drink from the refreshment table.

Harry turned and smiled at her from his spot at the other end of the table. "Ron and Hermione seem to be sickeningly sweet on each other tonight," he said to her.

"Yes, they…well you know," she said, unsure of whether or not to be vulgar with Harry.

"Ohh…" he said, as it dawned on him. "Oh, and….I wanted to tell you…uhmm…you look very nice."

"Thank you, Harry," she said, smiling.

Chris returned with two drinks in his hands. Virginie sipped hers gingerly, looking at Ron and Hermione on the dance floor. Ron was whispering something to Hermione, and she smiled lovingly up at him.

"Virginie."

She turned, looking at Chris questioningly. He leaned in closer, brushing her lips with his, making her shiver. He kissed along her cheekbones to her earlobes and blew softly into her ear. Breathing softly into her ear, he whispered, "Let's go upstairs…"

She bit her lip and broke away, smiling up at him. "Is that what you really want?" she asked teasingly.

He rubbed her arm tenderly. "More than anything…"

She smiled at him, placing her hand on his thigh and preparing to rise when Draco Malfoy appeared at Chris's side.

"Fancy a dance, Virginie? …Actually, I'll rephrase that: Would you please dance with me?" he asked.

"No, not really, Draco," she replied testily, while thinking _Well there goes _my _erection._

"Sure?" he asked.

"Most definitely," she replied, standing and tugging at Chris's hand so he did the same. "You see, we were just leaving."

"Oh," he said, realization dawning on him. "Right. Well see you two around."

"That was odd," Chris said as they walked upstairs. "Usually the bastard would press it."

"I know," she replied, holding tight to his hand as they climbed the stairs. "Let's not think on it, sweetie…"

He smiled at her hungrily as they reached the entrance to Ravenclaw Tower. "After you," he said, gesturing her inside.

"Why thank you," she said, looking behind her. "Although I'm sure you just wanted a nice look at my ass."

"How could I resist?" he said, entering after her into the empty Common Room. "It's quite a nice one."

She embraced him, kissing as fiercely as she could while standing. If they'd been in bed, she'd have pushed him into the mattress in her passion.

He groaned and pushed her toward the stairs. When they'd reached them, he picked her up and carried her up the stairs, putting her down when they'd reached the entrance to his dormitory. Pushing her against the door, he kissed her passionately and moved hungrily down her neck, and her breaths came in small sighs.

She broke away from him to open the door, and after they'd burst in, Chris shut the door and locked it with a spell she'd taught him when they'd first begun doing this. Chris's roommate, Michael, was frequently down in the Head Boy's dorm anyway, so there was really no need to lock the room, but there was always the fear that a small little first year would burst in on them.

"Mmmmmmmm," she groaned as he lifted her hair and kissed her entire neck. Stepping behind her, he unfastened the clasp to her dress, and it fell around her ankles, leaving her in her bra and thong.

He moved in again, pushing her closer to his bed while rubbing her sides softly, making her squirm for him. Finally they hit his trunk, and he set her on top of it and continued kissing her. Gingerly, she unclasped his black satin robe and watched it fall to the ground. They continued kissing while Virginie hungrily unbuttoned the numerous obstructions on his shirt, wrapping her legs around his waist until she could feel how hard he was through his black trousers.

When his shirt was off, Virginie hungrily kissed down Chris's chest, watching him grow more and more vulnerable as she moved further and further down. She kissed hungrily just below his navel, causing him to squirm in pleasure. Hungrily she kissed along his lower stomach, listening to the sharp inhalations of breath he took as she bit her way along his belt.

Finally, she couldn't wait any longer to taste him. She hurriedly ripped off his belt and unzipped his pants, watching them fall to the floor, just the way her dress had a few moments before. Chris's boxers were bulging just where she wanted them to be, and she licked his hardness through the fabric, listening with pleasure as he groaned and placed his hand on her head.

Hastily she pulled the boxers down, setting his enormous erection free. She traced her finger up and down the thick, pulsating shaft of his cock and felt him shiver. She smiled, thinking how good it felt to make him feel good.

Without warning, she took all of him in her mouth, and he gasped. She massaged him with her tongue as she moved up and down and in circles, giving him a good workout. She licked his head in circles as if it were an ice cream cone and paid close attention to his rugged breathing. When he stammered, "Stop…my turn now…" she unhappily removed his pulsating cock from her mouth and looked up at him.

He picked her up and placed her on his bed, kissing her waiting mouth. Working his way down, he bit and licked her pressure points, sending her into immediate ecstasy. He pulled her bra off and tossed it to the floor and kissed her aroused nipples. She groaned and twisted under his hard Quidditch body.

Working his way down her stomach, he bit and kissed each part of her, until her panties were sodden and she was burning up on the inside. Leaning down, he stuck his tongue on her wet panties and ran it up and down, back and forth over her clit. Her breathing came faster and faster until she was writhing on the bed, begging him to take her panties off.

He tore them off with his teeth and flung them on the floor, delving into her wet pussy. Hungrily he licked and kissed her lips and clit until she was so wet, she could feel it running down her legs.

"Please Chris," she begged him. "Please fuck me, _please_."

He bit her inner thigh and sat up, kneeling before her naked form. Both his hands ran from her upper thighs to her calves, pushing her legs further up into the air. Looking down, she could see his hard cock inches from her pussy, making her throb and writhe harder.

Silently, he took his thick, rock-hard cock and rubbed the head against her clit. Virginie let out a punctuated scream and shivered beneath him, while he rubbed harder and harder, until she rose up so far she was almost even with his face, and she looked straight into his eyes and, eye to eye, she begged him silently to end the torture and fuck her.

He didn't seem to get the hint.

"_Fuck me!_" she screamed, throwing herself back down on the bed.

"Are you sure you want that?" he teased, rubbing in a circle at her entrance.

"Oh God, oh Godd…" she moaned, writhing on the bed below him. "Fuck me hard, Chris…I _need_ you."

He continued to tease her at her entrance, and she moaned and became wetter and wetter, until she could see, from the moonlight streaming through the windowpane, that his huge, erect penis was glistening from it.

Without warning, he thrust his entire cock inside her, and she screamed loudly. He varied his pace, going slower and slower, causing her to moan from the agonizing speed, then moving so fast and furiously she thought her head would go through the headboard of his bed.

When she thought she couldn't take it any more, her legs shot straight into the air and she put her hands on his chest to steady herself. She arched her hips up to meet him, tightening her walls around his swollen cock. Never before had she come this hard with Chris, and she took immense pleasure in staring straight into his eyes as she screamed his name over and over again, until finally she released and could feel herself let it all go.

"Mmmmmm," she sighed, leaning her head back.

"You like that?" he said, kissing her. Without waiting for an answer, he grabbed her left leg and flipped her over into the doggie-style position. "My turn," he said huskily, thrusting into her as far as he could, causing her to gasp. She was still wet and tingling, and she steadied herself by putting her elbows on the bed and leaning forward slightly.

"That's it, baby," Chris grunted as he thrust faster and faster into her. With each hard thrust, he groaned, making the "Unh, unh, unh," rhythmic.

Sooner than before, Virginie felt the pleasure that had been building up about to release itself once more. She screamed for Chris as he began groaning and moaning her name.

"Lemme cum in you," he begged, still thrusting hard.

"Mmmm….ohhhh Chris, I _want_ you to!" she screamed, about to come herself.

"Oh God," he moaned. "Oh _God_, Virginie!"

They collapsed on the bed, their breathing heavy and irregular.

"Oh God," he said, rolling over to kiss her cheek. "Oh God that was fucking good."

"Ditto, Mr. Doubles," she said, grinning and kissing him.

"If this is what I get for going to dances with you," he said, still kissing her, "I'll go to every fucking dance this school has to offer."


	4. Oh, What a Christmas

Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns…well, you know the drill.

I

The two extremely attractive teenagers sat, listening to the drum of the ice on the windows—an enormous storm was taking place. Earlier, Virginie had gone to Chris's room to help him study for his Potions exam; now, they were relaxing on Chris's bed, snuggled up warmly.

"Ahem," Chris began, moving away from her enough that she could sense he had something very important to say. She sat upright in bed and looked down at him, and he in turn sat up to look at her. "I need to talk to you about something."

"What's that?" she asked, looking at him.

"Well…I…well, my father and mother are moving further east."

"Are you moving?" she asked worriedly.

"No, well not now…but…my father was telling me that he will be able to get me a spot at his new facility…a sort of law office."

"Oh…so…"

"Well, I think I'm going to take it. I wouldn't be able to be away from my family, you know, and…I just think it would be best for me."

"All right."

"What do you mean, 'all right'?" he asked.

"I _mean_, all _right_."

"Are you annoyed?"

"No."

"Well…it's not as if we won't be able to talk."

"I don't want to be tied down to someone who won't be here," she said testily. "I like you a lot, but I honestly don't see this going past Hogwarts."

"Me neither," he sighed appreciatively. "I mean I think you're great, and we're great, but we really aren't _great_, you know?"

She laughed. "I know."

"Well," he said, "there is really no reason for us to not be together for the rest of the year."

"I never said I didn't want to," she said evenly.

"Good," he grinned, pushing her down and tickling her.

II

Hermione caught up with her after Defence against the Dark Arts class.

"I did it," she said shyly, her face red.

Virginie squealed. "Did you! How was it? Was it okay?"

"It was good," Hermione said. "Not bad for my first time, I guess."

"Great! Well I'm glad for you."

"How's Chris?" she asked as they walked toward Potions.

"Fine," Virginie said, staring straight ahead.

"Something wrong?"

Virginie turned and put her right hand on her hip. "He's fucking _moving_, is what's wrong! _Not_ that I _care_!"

"When?" Hermione asked, puzzled.

"End of this year," Virginie grumbled, walking gingerly down the steps due to the many books in her arms.

"Well that's not so bad, then," Hermione said.

"No, it's not," Virginie admitted. "I just find it rather odd that I have to be in a relationship with someone knowing that it's going to end."

"Well, everything ends," Hermione said matter-of-factly.

"Shut up," she said bitterly, opening the dungeon door.

"Let's make something fun!" Slughorn exclaimed as they filed in.

"Oh, joy," Virginie said sarcastically, throwing her bags down next to Harry.

Because Virginie was in such a pissy mood, she decided to brew a basic attitude booster. As she worked, she noticed Harry rifling hurriedly through his magical book, and she rolled her eyes.

"Stop it, _Ron_!" Hermione screamed, swatting his hand away from her cauldron. "This is im_por_tant!"

A green mist that smelled of lavender wafted over toward Harry and Virginie, who both began to sway on their feet, hardly able to stay alert.

"Erm….professor…"

Slughorn hurried over, examining the mist. "Hermione, did you add essence of lavender to your potion? I'm afraid it warped into a sleeping draught."

"Thanks a lot, Ron!" she hissed, slamming all her books into her bag.

"Oh no," Slughorn said, smiling, "it's rather good actually…it's just too bad you had to use it on Harry and Virginie."

Virginie felt herself growing dizzier and dizzier and sat down heavily on the nearest chair. Soon she felt the pull toward sleep and she struggled to stay awake and looked about the room. Beside her, Harry was snoring gently, his breath causing his hair to blow up at regular intervals. His glasses had slid dangerously low on his nose.

She felt her head fall back, and she gave into the temptation to sleep.

III

"Virginie?"

Hearing her name, Virginie slowly opened her eyes and looked upward. Hermione stood before her, looking very worried.

"Oh thank goodness!" she exclaimed, hugging the invalid. "I thought for sure you'd be asleep for entirely too long and something bad would happen! …Slughorn was rather afraid of that anyway."

"How long have I been asleep?" Virginie enquired, looking down at her clothing, which had been changed from her school robes to comfortable satin pyjamas.

"Almost a week," Hermione blushed, nervously running her fingers through her curly hair. "It's Christmas Eve."

Virginie studied her surroundings. The hospital ward looked rather deserted; one boy was in a small twin bed with a curtain half-drawn around him, and there was a young, small girl with a first year look about her sitting upright in a bed drinking from a large goblet containing a fuchsia liquid that boiled and hissed.

"Chris was here earlier," Hermione said, avoiding Virginie's eyes.

"Why aren't you looking at me?" Virginie enquired, puzzled. "What did he do? He did something, didn't he? Or maybe some_one._"

Hermione coughed, and Virginie stared at her.

"_Tell_ me, Hermione," the invalid demanded, throwing her covers back and sitting up in bed.

"Well, erm…he had…erm…well he had a girl with him," she said awkwardly, still avoiding her eyes.

"_Who_?" Virginie asked incredulously.

"I don't know her," Hermione said quickly. "I think she's a fifth year."

"Eww…"

Hermione patted Virginie's slim arm comfortingly. "Don't even worry about it, Virginie. Why would you even want to be with him if he's moving away?"

"Well that's the thing, isn't it?" she replied evenly, leaning her head back against the pillow. "I didn't want to be with him…so _why_ didn't he just _tell_ me?"

Hermione shrugged, tracing an imaginary pattern on the bed sheets.

"Well, never mind that," Virginie said firmly. "I'm over it."

"Good," Hermione said. "Well it's not as if I expected you to _not_ be over it quickly. Anyway, would you like to come with me to London for the next two days? It should be rather fun. I think you need some fun."

"That'll be brilliant," Virginie smiled.


	5. When Bad Things Turn Good

I

Virginie looked around, wishing it was she who could live here the entire year. She wandered aimlessly about the gigantic common room, looking at the Gryffindor and Slytherin paraphernalia and waiting anxiously for Hermione.

"Ready?" Hermione called, quietly closing her door and hurrying down the winding staircase.

"Yes," she answered, running her fingers over a marble snake lamp base. "Hermione? Does this mean that you-know-who is Head Boy?"

"Of course that's what it means, de Gaulle," Draco's sharp voice snapped from above. "Disappointed?"

"No," she snapped back, and she knew her eyes were flashing with contempt.

"Good," he retorted, hastily knotting his tie as he walked down the stairs. "I'm sure we'll all be spending quite a bit of time together. We must all get along and be the best of friends," he said sarcastically, making his way toward the doorway. "See you around, Virginie."

Hermione stared after him as the door closed smoothly. "It's going to be a long year, isn't it?"

II

"I need a favour," Hermione began.

Virginie stopped writing her Potions essay and looked up confusedly. In the year that she'd known Hermione, she'd never asked for anything from anyone. "Yes?"

"Well," Hermione began, redness creeping into her cheeks, "Ron and I would like to get away…and…would you mind? Would you mind sleeping in my dormitory so that no one suspects anything? It would just be for the weekend."

Virginie looked about the library and rapped her pen anxiously on the desk. On one hand, Hermione's dormitory beckoned her, with its warm, luxurious bed and the many private amenities. However, if she stayed there, she would be staying with Draco for the weekend. As if reading her mind, Hermione spoke.

"Draco won't bother you," she said. "If you're worried about that."

Virginie stared down at her desk, torn between luxuries and Draco. "Well, why not? I guess I'll do it…but Draco had better stay away."

"Oh don't worry!" Hermione exclaimed, shutting her book. "I'll make sure he doesn't bother you at all!"

Hermione shoved her things into her bag and looked across the table. "Well, I must be going…to tell Ron! Thank you so much! I will somehow repay you, I promise!" She dashed off, leaving Virginie staring after her and wondering just what she'd gotten herself into.

III

Virginie groaned softly in her sleep and turned onto her back, gazing at the ceiling, where sunlight streamed through the skylight, reflecting rays onto the bed near her feet. She pulled the blankets tighter around her, feeling so comfortable she could have just melted into the bed.

_I love Saturdays_, she thought, slowly opening her eyes. _I could just lie here all day._

After a time, she slowly climbed out of bed and made her way to the bathroom, fully intending to shower and slip back into pajamas. She was amazed that she hadn't seen Draco at all last night or heard him this morning, but she knocked on the wooden door just to be sure she hadn't jinxed it.

After showering she made her way slowly down to the Great Hall for breakfast, seating herself beside Harry at the Gryffindor table.

"Morning, V," he said, passing the fruit salad her way.

"Hiya Harry," she breathed, spooning salad into her bowl. "How you been?"

"Great," he said, sizing her up. She gave him a small smile as she poured milk.

"You know when you sit here you attract attention," he said, eating his eggs.

"So? We're friends, aren't we?"

"Just saying. …Anyway, have you talked to Hermione or Ron?"

"No," she said, eating her fruit. For no reason, she thought it could be fun to flirt with Harry, but she pushed the thought from her mind. She couldn't risk losing friends by being a cocktease…even though she knew she was rather good at it. And who said she'd be teasing? It'd been awhile since she'd had sex...

"Ron was supposed to train with me this weekend. Do you think he's proposing? ...Well, never mind that…I have something for you," he said, and he leaned down for his bag and his hand brushed against her thigh.

"Here," he said, handing her a small box. "It reminded me of you."

She opened it and found a small pendant inside, similar to one she had lost the previous Christmas. The words, "truth, honor, wisdom," were enscribed on the face of the pin.

"You know…being a Ravenclaw and all," he said, turning back to his breakfast.

"It is very beautiful, Harry. Thank you," she said, kissing him lightly on the cheek. She saw his face go red and returned to her own breakfast.

He stood and began to walk away, then stopped. "Hey…Virginie," he said suddenly.

"Yes?"

He hesitated. "Er…nothing. See you," he said, dashing away. "Glad you liked the pendant."

Very puzzled, Virginie finished her fruit and returned to Hermione's suite. Inside her room, she removed the skirt she had worn to breakfast and the white collared shirt, and she stood wearing a pink camisole and black boyshorts. She put on some music and searched about the room, looking for something to occupy her. Resting on the floor was a small cabinet, and Virginie got down on all fours and began searching inside.

Her bum in the air and her elbows supporting her, she looked through letters Ron had written to Hermione. She froze when a voice, cool as ice, broke the silence.

"I couldn't pay for a view like that," Draco said, leaning against the door frame.

Virginie hastily stood up, wishing she could cover her legs. She grabbed a blanket from the bed and drew it around her.

"Ah, modesty," Draco intoned. "Something that most girls lack."

"Well I'm not most girls," she snapped.

"So I've noticed," he said smoothly, still standing in the doorway. "It's what separates you. Well, that and your impeccable thighs."

"Who?"

"You from…them. You and…_Granger_, anyway," he spat.

"Who are 'them'?" she asked.

"You know, the usual whores…Parkinson, mainly," he said airily.

"But you…you and Pansy are…"

"Through," he finished for her. "If we ever began. She's sex, it's that simple. You of all people should understand that."

"I do."

"I knew you would. We're not so different, Virginie. Youfucking that foul git, Chris, last year. I hope you weren't kidding yourself."

"Why do you think I broke it off?" she snapped, hugging the blanket tighter about her chest.

"I rather thought you did it just before he did," he said smoothly, moving into the bedroom. "Ingenious, of course, something I'd do…"

Virginie snapped. "He was an arsehole! He was moving and basically didn't even give me an option! NOT that I'd have wanted to stay with him anyway, the big _WANKER_!"

"See, that's more like it," Draco said silkily. "The truth is, as always, a wonderful thing."

Virginie seethed silently on the bed, feeling her face grow warm. She glanced at Draco's face, the picture of perfect composure—this made her irritation grow. However, she couldn't help but notice how very…large…he was. This was not the Draco she had known when she'd come to Hogwarts for the Triwizard Tournament…this was a very nicely grown up Draco.

She cleared her throat.

"I want you," Draco said.

"What?"

"You heard me. And don't deny that you didn't know that before, Virginie. You've _known_. You've known since you were here three years ago. You knew it when you came back last year. And all year you were _fucking_ that git right under my nose and you _knew_. So quit the game. Tell me you want me."

"But I don't want you…" she whispered, looking into her lap.

"That is an utter lie," Draco snapped, losing his composure. "The way you were looking at me just now...Look me in the eye and tell me you don't want me."

"I don't…" she began, trailing off as she gazed into his pale blue eyes.

"That's what I thought," he snapped bitterly. "I'm not going to beg, de Gaulle. Hand yourself over like a nice girl. I'm not going to beg."

"We'll see about that, _Malfoy_," she snapped back, casting the blanket to the floor and leaving the room. It was her fervent hope that he was watching her perfect bum leave the room.

She reclined on a chaise lounge once in the common room and waited patiently. Never before had she even considered having sex with Draco, but after seeing him "all grown up" in Hermione's bedroom, she could feel a dull throb working its way through her body and she found herself wanting him very, very much.

Draco sprinted down Hermione's staircase and into the common room, taking a seat on the sofa next to Virginie's chaise. "So what?" he spat. "You think you can make me beg? I never beg, nor will I ever beg…"

As he continued rambling, Virginie slowly ran her fingers over her cleavage, watching his face carefully. She bent her legs as she continued rubbing the (if she might say so herself) very nice cleavage poking from her camisole. Draco trailed off and watched her, his eyes focused wholly on her body.

She rose from where she sat and moved toward Draco. As she neared him, he sat back in his seat and looked up expectantly at her. She stopped when she was directly in front of him, looked him in the eye, and slowly turned around and bent over, touching her hands to the ground. When she heard his sharp intake of breath, she knew she'd won, even though it was early in the game.

He reached out to touch her and she slapped his hand away. "No touching, Draco," she said, rising and standing above him. He leaned back against the sofa once more and Virginie straddled him on the couch. She softly touched his face and kissed him gingerly on the lips, feeling him give in to her touch. He cautiously placed his hand in her hair, as if afraid she would admonish him again, but she didn't; in fact, she could feel herself getting wet and she silently chastised herself for it. If she didn't stay on top of things, _she _would be the one begging, and that was not how it was supposed to be.

He placed a hand on her thigh and slowly moved it upward and she shivered and moaned softly, a hardly distinguishable moan, but she knew he'd heard, and she could feel his smirk through his passionate kisses.

Draco slowly unbuttoned his shirt, his eyes focused on Virginie. He cast the shirt to the floor and Virginie studied his hard Quidditch body hungrily. Instead of removing her own shirt, she kissed slowly down his neck and chest, moving a few fingers in and out of his trousers and feeling him twitch with desire each time. She bit him below his navel and he groaned, throwing his head back and making Virginie smile to herself as she continued biting and kissing along the line of his belt, enjoying very much the small twitches he made as she hit his pressure points.

She unbuckled his belt hungrily, making him think she'd free his erection; instead, she stopped after unbuttoning his trousers and pulled the coffee table nearer, sitting across from him. His face was a mix of ecstasy and irritation, and she smiled evilly.

"You…," he gasped, unable to finish his sentence.

She leisurely lowered a strap of her tank, watching his hungry eyes travel to her cleavage. When the strap was halfway down her arm, she pulled it up again and saw the disappointment in his eyes. Instead, she stood and edged her panties down, watching him squirm as she finally stepped out of them. Turning away from him, she turned away, sat on the coffee table and did the splits, bending forward for him to get a good, long look at her. She knew she was extremely wet, probably dripping onto the coffee table, but she didn't care, and when she turned around, judging by the look on Draco's face, he didn't care either.

He was rubbing the bulk inside his trousers and his usually composed face was flushed and rampant.

She straddled him again and kissed him as she pulled her shirt off and hastily removed her bra. He gasped and his mouth went hungrily to her chest, kissing her breasts and massaging her nipples with his tongue. Her wetness was running down her thighs and she rubbed herself against the hardness in Draco's trousers, sighing with pleasure as his clothed erection rubbed against her clit.

"I want you," he sighed, kissing her neck eagerly.

"We've established that," she said. "But you still haven't begged."

"I won't beg," he said simply, biting her sharply at the base of her neck, causing her to inhale sharply.

"We'll see," she snapped when she could breathe properly again, and stood.

Draco reclined on the couch and looked hungrily up at her lean, shapely body.

"Take off your pants," she commanded, and he obeyed and reclined once more, stroking his large erection with enjoyment.

"Do I get a request then?" he asked leisurely.

"Why not?"

"Sit on my face," he commanded. "We'll see who's begging then."

Her legs shaking from anticipation, she bent over so he had a pristine view of her lips and access to her clit. His erection rubbed against her breasts as she bent over and she could feel herself growing even wetter as she looked at the massiveness of it, and her clit twitched as she thought of it inside her.

Draco's immaculate mouth wrapped around her clit, and he massaged it slowly in circles with his tongue, making her twitch pleasurably. Refusing to let him win, Virginie took his massive cock in her mouth and pushed him to the back of her throat. In retaliation, Draco leisurely pushed two fingers deep inside her and she gasped, sucking him harder to prevent herself from crying out. She refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing she was enjoying this, though she knew the wetness was giving her away anyway.

When he began thrusting himself into her mouth, she knew he was close to coming and removed him from her mouth, standing once more. Her clit was throbbing and the wetness was gushing out of her, begging to be satiated. She knew if he didn't fuck her soon, she was going to come and that would ruin everything.

She sat across from him and rubbed her clit slowly, trying to think of something else but Draco and his massive erection, otherwise she'd come. Relief was hers when she heard Draco say, "Virginie, please fuck me. Please. Right now. You win. I'm begging. I can't take it any more."

"Oh, Draco," she groaned, throwing herself into his lap. He stood and carried her up to his bedroom with her legs wrapped about his waist, his erection rubbing against her stomach as he climbed the stairs.

He threw her onto his bed and positioned himself above her, holding his enormous erection in his hand and rubbing the head against her clit. "I'm going to fuck you 'til you can't walk."

"Promise?" Virginie gasped, arching her head back into the pillows.

Without warning, he slid his cock completely inside her, and she gasped and groaned. He kissed her arched neck as he pumped in and out of her wet pussy, making her climax. She clawed her nails into his back and ass, trying to push him as deep into her as she could as she screamed for him over and over again. When her head was still and resting on the pillows, Draco kissed her gently.

"Let's do that again," he said, licking her lips slowly. Gently, he flipped her onto her stomach and pushed into her slower this time, causing Virginie to twitch and exhaling deeply when he'd pushed himself entirely inside her. He lifted her gently and put his arms under her, placing his hands on her shoulders in order to push into her deeper. His thrusts were harder now, and Virginie moaned and squirmed under his tightening grip. Over and over he called her name, grinding her into the mattress until finally she felt herself coming again, and just as she was at the height of orgasm, he exploded inside her, causing her to scream and dig her nails into his mattress.

She turned over and looked into his face,stroking his still-hard cock.

"I don't know what to say," she breathed, pulling him to her.

"Let's do that again," he grinned, pinning her arms down.


	6. Just What You Wouldn't Expect

The next morning, Virginie woke with a start when she heard the soft, rhythmic breathing of someone lying next to her. She turned and realized that Draco was lying next to her. After the initial "What have I done?" shock wore off, she felt a smile spread across her face slowly sank back down into the satin pillows. Her body felt stiff and sore, and she smiled wryly as she realized Draco had kept his promise.

She moved herself closer to him and draped a perfectly toned arm across his chest. He stirred slightly, let out a soft moan, and drifted back to sleep. Virginie did, too, and when she awoke a few hours later, it was to find Draco's muscular arms enveloping her, his head nestled in her golden hair.

"Good morning, gorgeous," he whispered as she turned to look at him.

"Hi," she murmured, reaching over to stroke his hair.

"I thought maybe you'd be gone this morning," he said. "That you regretted everything."

"No," she whispered softly, a smile creeping across her features. "But can I just say that I am just as surprised as you are to find myself in this position."

He smirked and leaned forward to kiss her gently on the lips. "Care to join me for a relaxing shower?"

"I would, darling, but the problem is, you kept your promise, and I can't walk," she said, embarrassed.

"Not a problem," he said, sliding his elegant arms beneath her legs and back, lifting her from the bed.

Once the bath had been drawn (for she found it rather difficult to stand in the shower), they settled opposite one another into the steaming, welcoming water. Draco leaned back against the cool porcelain of the tub, and, following his cue, Virginie did the same, letting out a long, relaxed sigh. This soon ended, however, when a rather pressing thought presented itself.

"Hermione will be returning today," she said, suddenly realizing how very odd it was the she should be spending a leisurely Sunday morning in the bath with Draco Malfoy, of all people, and actually _enjoying_ it. Furthermore, what the fuck would Hermione think?

"So?" he snapped, keeping his head back against the tub.

"I just…well this is a bit awkward, is it not?"

He still remained calm and unflinching. "I don't care who knows about this. Your family is of fortunate circumstance, my family is, of course, noble. There is no shame in either of us pursuing a relationship together. It is, after all, seventh year, and after this I shall be accepting a position at the Ministry. Father will approve of you and your French background at Beauxbatons and now at Hogwarts. Mother will approve of the way you dote on me. Whether or not your parents approve of me is irrelevant, because the way I feel about you will not change. You're perfect, I'm perfect; therefore, we're perfect."

Rather than feeling disgusted, as she was quite positive she would felt just a few days ago, she felt ambivalent as she pondered this statement. Draco was, after all, right, and even if the truth stung a bit to hear, it was still the truth. What did it matter, after all, if her parents did not approve of Draco? They did not approve of any of the boys she had dated before, so it didn't really matter if they approved of Draco, either…Virginie certainly did not care to hear their opinion.

Furthermore, Draco's haughty demeanor matched her own; in fact, she realized then that she had not really been herself at Hogwarts for the past year. The French, after all, perfected the art of snootiness, whereas Britain was more than happy to play the part of the overly friendly and attentive neighbour. That's when she found herself saying it.

"I completely agree, Draco," she said, her voice now as cool and void of emotion as his. "However, what are we to do about Pansy?"

"Pansy will get over it," he said simply, raising his head and smiling wickedly at her. "You look gorgeous."

Virginie blushed and looked away from his piercing gray stare, her heart beginning to race.

"Look at me," he demanded, leaning forward in order to force her to look his way. "I mean it. You're absolutely ravishing."

He sank back into his relaxed position against the side of the tub, and she found herself moving lithely toward him, her screaming eyes fixed on his. When she reached him, her hands stretched past him and rested upon the cool porcelain behind Draco's shoulders. She was straddling him now, and as she leaned in to kiss him hard on the mouth, she was surprised to feel his giant erection brushing against her stomach.

"Hellooo," she purred, licking Draco's lips.

"The things you do to me…" He smirked, and gently stroked her hair. "Now, my darling, my most precious vixen…all romance aside, how many good fucks do you think we can have before Hermione returns this evening?"

"Mmmmmmmm," she murmured, as he rubbed her clit beneath the water.

"I'll take that as eight," he replied, allowing her to slide his enormous cock inside of her. All soreness forgotten, she rode him hard in the tub, her hands firmly grasping the porcelain edges of the tub. She felt Draco grow longer and harder with each thrust of her hips, making her scream in ecstasy.

She found herself moaning things that were blatantly obvious.

"So big…..so hard…." she gasped, grinding him into her.

"I thought you might approve," he said calmly, holding her hips lightly as she gyrated above him.

After a very long, very satisfying bath, the two dressed and proceeded to venture down to the Great Hall for lunch. Though Virginie protested, not wanting to be seen, Draco insisted.

"If you want your five more, you'll need to refuel," he said, playfully kissing her neck as they neared the suite's exit. "I know I'm lacking some essential vitamins."

She giggled as he tickled her neck with his kisses, and the two emerged from the Head Pupils' Suite. It was situated on the second floor, at the back of the corridor where it was all but deserted. Virginie felt thankful for this as Draco grasped her hand, squeezing it meaningfully as they neared the first set of stairs.

They dropped one another's hands as they reached the first floor, for here it was more crowded with students hastening to Sunday lunch, eager to partake of the delicious feast that the house elves had undoubtedly prepared for them.

Once at the ground floor, Draco immediately headed to the Slytherin table and Virginie to the Ravenclaw table, as if nothing were amiss. She noticed slightly shocked looks from Harry and Ginny, who were used to spending their Sundays with Virginie. They looked especially desolate without Ron and Hermione near their sides. Trying to brush this off, she made an apologetic face to them and sat next to Luna Lovegood, who hardly took notice of her due to the copy of _The Quibbler_ that was floating above her.

She ate faster than she ever had before, eager to return to the suite and thinking happily about the past twenty-four hours. Her reverie was interrupted, however, by an ear-splitting scream. Nearly everyone had turned in the direction of the Slytherin table, where Pansy Parkinson was shrieking hysterically and standing over an amused-looking Draco Malfoy.

"What do you _mean_, _NOT INTERESTED?!_" she screamed, fat tears rolling down her face.

Draco's eyes met Virginie's and his gaze softened. Pansy must have noticed this, for she, too, glanced toward the Ravenclaw table.

"There's someone else, ISN'T THERE?!" she roared, pointing in Virginie's general direction.

"Pansy, for Christ's sake, keep your voice down," Draco whispered, but the Hall had grown so quiet that everyone heard.

"I will _NOT_! I CANNOT BELIEVE YOU! You are a traitor and a coward!" She summoned a cake from the end of the table and it exploded over Draco's head. He cleaned himself with a silent wave of his wand. Though all food immediately disappeared after that, the entire Hall gazed transfixed upon the fighting couple.

Draco stood to leave, but Pansy Stupefied him. It was then that Snape came hurrying across the Hall.

"Parkinson, my office…NOW!" he bellowed, un-Stupefying Draco and ushering Pansy from the room.

Draco hastily stood, brushed himself off, and exited the Hall without a backward glance. With excited, hushed whispers, the rest of the Hall did the same, Virginie included.

"I haven't seen you around lately," Luna said as they walked out. "Do you have snarflax?"

"Snarflax?" Virginie repeated.

"It's like a severe flu. You can be in the hospital wing for days at a time, and just when you think you're improved, it comes on again."

"No, no, Luna," Virginie replied, smiling. "I've just been staying in Hermione's Suite for the weekend while she's out of town. Gets me away from the roommates and all, not that they're bad."

"Oh, okay," she said, looking disappointed about the lack of Snarflax. "See you tonight, maybe."

They each went their separate ways, Virginie following Draco at a distance. When her legs had grown quite sore (he was nearly sprinting, not to mention her fatigue from the night before), she risked calling out for him.

"Draco! Draco….stop!"

He obeyed, turning to look at her. His face was not violent, as she had somewhat expected, but concerned, she could see, for her.

"Darling," he said, picking her up from where she was leaning against the wall. "I'm so sorry. Forgive me. I was just in a rush to get out of there."

Instead of asking for details, as she thought she would do, she found herself saying, "It's all right, Draco. I just couldn't catch you. You've worn me out."

He carried her through the portrait hole and gently carried her up to Hermione's bedroom.

"Why here?" she asked, removing her cloak.

"She'll expect you to be in here when she returns," he said simply. "After all, Weasley was proposing to her this weekend. We don't want to rain on their parade."

"All right," she said, disappointed. He caught it in her voice.

"What's wrong?"

"Oh….nothing. Just….you promised me another five," she said, smiling wickedly at his bemused expression.

She slowly unbuttoned her shirt, exposing the lacy red bra she was wearing. Draco visibly tensed, she saw, and this encouraged her. She took a step toward him, but before she could do anything, he'd pushed her onto Hermione's bed. Without hesitating, he ripped open his pants and pulled out his pulsating erection. Pushing up her skirt and ripping her thong to the side, Draco drilled into her, tearing her tight pussy apart.

True to his word, she came five more times…though really, just looking at him was enough to get her halfway there, so it hadn't been hard anyway. It was when her last sensations of pleasure were fading and Draco's semen was slowly seeping from her that she fell asleep

She woke, however, not too much later, to Draco's violent shaking.

"Wake up," he hissed, leaving her side to grab articles of clothing from the floor.

"What?" Virginie groaned, stretching on the bed.

"Hermione's back," he said simply, and ran through the adjoining bathroom to his own room.

Virginie quickly Summoned her clothes and threw them on, knowing she looked a complete mess. She had just managed to clean Hermione's sheets with a Scouring charm when Hermione entered the room, beaming from ear to ear. Wordlessly, she held up her left hand, showing the small, glinting ring.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" she screamed, hugging Virginie and jumping up and down. Virginie could hardly get in her congratulations between the screams.

"Hold on," Hermione said, slowing down enough to look at Virginie's appearance. "What were _you_ doing this weekend?"

"Nothing," Virginie said quickly.

"Oh really?" Hermione asked skeptically. "Because it smells like sex in here."


	7. Aftermath

Explaining to Hermione was the easy part.

Explaining to Hogwarts was a different story.

Not only the students, but the professors as well, were intent on making their opinions known. Pansy Parkinson, for instance, had cornered her in the bathroom, called her every imaginable name, and attempted to jinx her. Luckily Virginie's magical skills far exceeded Pansy's, and nothing happened, but it was the principle of it that bothered her.

Similarly, a few days later, Professor Snape awarded her one hundred points for Ravenclaw for simply answering his question about what date it was. Professor McGonagall, on the other hand, would hardly speak to her, and Flitwick, her head of house, asked to speak with her privately regarding some rather "hasty decisions," as he put it.

All this aside, Virginie was most concerned about her friends. Harry, for instance, though now dating Ginny, was visibly disappointed and angry when she broke the news to him, and how could she blame him? She was, after all, dating his rival. Ron was stunned, but quickly was over it, especially because Hermione didn't seem to find any fault with the pair. Hermione's approval was reassuring to Virginie, because she was almost certain that if Hermione approved, it must be fine.

As far as Draco went, he truly did not seem to care who knew about their relationship. He held her hand and kissed her before classes, leaving other students to scratch their heads and ask, "How did that happen?"

Virginie spent most of her nights in Draco's suite. Not only was it convenient, but it was also nice to be away from the other students who were constantly giving her sideways glances and whispering behind her back as she studied, researched, or simply lounged, in the Ravenclaw common room. Instead, she and Hermione took to studying in the Suite. With N.E.W.T.s coming this year, the workload was sky-high. Hermione admittedly had twice the work as Virginie, for she was constantly correcting and revising Ron's work as well as her own. Virginie, perhaps biased because she was a Ravenclaw and naturally adept at studying on her own, could not understand why Hermione would constantly help Ron—but then again, they were engaged. Even so, Virginie was glad that Draco did not ask for her help; instead, he sat hunched over his large desk, scribbling away furiously until it was well past midnight and Hermione had already gone to bed.

Some nights, Virginie, having finished her homework a few hours earlier, would doze on the chaise, waiting for him to finish his work. He usually came over when he was done and gently shook her, or sometimes he simply carried her up the stairs to the bedroom.

The next Friday, however, Virginie sat working on a particularly difficult Potions essay that was due Monday. She had worked on it most of the night, after finishing her other work, but it was now nearing midnight and she was nowhere near complete. Filing the essay away, she rose from her own desk, stretched, and sauntered over toward Draco, who, she now realized, had fallen asleep on top of what seemed to be the Defense against the Dark Arts essay she had finished earlier that night. Gently she shook him, hoping he would wake…she did not particularly relish the thought of levitating her boyfriend up to bed.

"Mmmmm," he groaned, barely stirring.

"Darling, it's nearly midnight. We must go to bed," she urged, stroking his silky blond hair.

Grudgingly, Draco rose from the desk and headed for the stairs. Once he had fallen into bed, still in his day clothes, he turned to her while she was pulling on her own pyjamas.

"I love you."

"Pardon me?" she asked incredulously.

"I love you, Virginie," he said, then rolled over and fell asleep.

Now wide awake, she slipped into bed beside him. _Did he really mean that?_ she wondered. After all, the poor boy was half asleep. It was rather soon for this talk of love, though they had been sleeping together and living in such close quarters. She found herself soon drifting off to sleep, resting her head gently against Draco's chest. Perhaps she would ask him in the morning…

That, however, proved difficult. About ten the next morning, when Virginie had just begun stirring for the day, she heard what was always a rather unpleasant sound: Ron and Hermione having sex. Not only were they having sex, but they were engaging in said activity in the bathroom. The bathroom that they all _shared_.

Next to her, Draco groaned. She rolled over and tried to open her eyes.

"Too early," she mumbled, pulling the covers over her head.

"It's not thaaaat early, baby," he replied, caressing her silky skin under the covers. "But I wish those two would have some consideration for us. They're not the only ones living in this Suite."

"Nuuughhhh," was all she could manage to reply.

"We had sex in there," he reasoned.

Virginie retreated further beneath the covers. A few minutes later, she popped her head out.

"Are they in the bathtub or the shower, Draco?"

"I think it's the bathtub," he replied. "I think if they were in the shower, we'd be able to hear more."

"Fancy a shower?" Virginie grinned, pulling him toward the bathroom.

"I'd love one," he said, casting off garments as he walked toward the door. Virginie opened it and they snuck into the shower, carefully closing the metal door behind them, to try to avoid making noise.

The shower was large and stone and required the bather to walk down three steps into it. There was a large seat at the bottom with a removable shower handle (perfect for waxing her legs, Virginie had found). This is where Virginie sat to undress when they reached the bottom. Draco started the water. They could still hear Hermione's ragged breathing and the sloshing of the water from the tub, but the shower spray drowned out the bulk of the noise they'd had to listen to in the bedroom.

Virginie grinned evilly at Draco.

"Competition time?" he asked hopefully.

"Yes."

He lowered himself to his knees so that he was level with Virginie, who sat cross-legged on the stone bench. He kissed her passionately, soon moving to her supple breasts, which longed for his electrifying touch. He rubbed her clit with his thumb as he licked and nibbled her breasts, and soon he uncrossed her legs and pushed her back against the stone wall of the shower. Wrapping her legs around his head, he began to devour her wet, throbbing pussy.

Virginie gasped as he hit a particularly sensitive spot, sending shudders down her spine. As he licked more and more, she found herself spinning out of control, until she was screaming for more, more, more….screaming for his cock. He gave it to her, long and thick, kneeling over the bench. He put her legs over his shoulders and buried his cock deep inside her, so that she screamed constantly for him.

Only when she had cum did Draco flip her over so that she was bent over the bench, doggie style, ready to receive him. He pushed himself in slowly, which drove her crazy, and grabbed her hips for support. He thrust in and out of her so fast, she began to climax yet again. Forgetting that Ron and Hermione were still there, she began screaming at Draco.

"Spank me, Draco….harder…._harder_!!!" she screamed, feeling herself about to explode. "Fuck me like a dirty whore, cum all over my tight pussy!"

He exploded all over her, pulled out, and came more on her tight, toned ass. Then, before she could sit up, he knelt down and began licking the cum off her ass and pussy. Her clit was so sensitive, she felt herself screaming again, screaming for him to make her cum one more time, and he did.

Feeling exhausted, yet extremely satisfied, the two began taking their postponed shower. When they had finished, Draco waited in the bed as Virginie finished styling her hair and applying makeup. They then went down the steps to the lounging area, where Ron and Hermione now sat.

"Morning," Draco grumbled as they walked past them.

When they'd returned, they found Ron and Hermione just where they'd left them. Hermione was knitting and Ron was writing an essay. They looked up as Draco and Virginie climbed through the portrait hole.

"Oy, Draco," Ron said, "I was going to borrow one of your quills this morning, but good thing I didn't, you might've spanked me."

Hermione giggled.

Virginie blushed, but Draco did not falter.

"Yeah, I might've," Draco said, flopping down on the couch and pulling Virginie down with him. "Make fun all you want, Weasley, but Virginie isn't complaining…are you, V?"

She shook her head absentmindedly, then looked at him and grinned. She gave him a small kiss on the cheek that turned into short, passionate kisses.

"Cool it!" Hermione said, aiming her wand at them. It gave off an icy blast that separated them at once. Still, they looked at one another and grinned guiltily.

"And do your parents know about this blissful relationship?" Hermione asked skeptically, still holding her wand threateningly in her hand.

Virginie shook her head. "My parents don't really write me, and I didn't feel it was necessary to write them." She turned to Draco.

"Mother and Father know," he told Hermione, stroking Virginie's hair. "V's coming to the mansion for Halloween."

They smiled at one another, though Virginie's stomach had shot to her throat and Ron and Hermione exchanged knowing looks. They didn't, however, say anything while in Draco's presence, but instead Hermione chose to discuss this with Virginie later, in the privacy of her bedroom.

"Do you really think you'll fit in at Draco's home?" Hermione asked.

Virginie shrugged and refused to meet Hermione's eyes.

"They're Dark Wizards, V," she whispered, looking slightly afraid. "I don't care how nice Draco is to you. Look, he cares about you, I know that much—but I doubt he's going to change just for some girl. I was okay with this when it was just a simple affair, but meeting his parents? Only serious boyfriends and girlfriends do that, and you and Draco…you've been together just over a month. I'm worried," she said shortly.

"Truthfully, so am I," Virginie replied, twirling her wand in her hand. "I do like Draco…he's the perfect gentleman when I'm around…and I'm worried, Hermione. He might change when he's with his parents…and what if I can't end it? What if I'm stuck?"

This is what had bothered her most. She knew Draco's family was very powerful, especially his father. They had powers and means of extortion her family did not possess. Truthfully, it wouldn't surprise her a bit if she tried to end her relationship with Draco and then had to face the retaliation of his family. It scared her _shitless_. She knew that Lucius Malfoy knew her father from work, and, honestly, who was Lucius to judge? He'd recently been released from Azkaban…who was he to judge her? And her father—he was soon to be appointed to the Wizengamot, if the rumors were true.

Hermione sensed Virginie trying to convince herself she was good enough for the Malfoys, and she let out a sniff of laughter. "Oh come _on_, Virginie. Your family is ancient, probably even more so than the Malfoys. Your father definitely has a better position than Draco's…just don't worry about it. …Er…."

"What?"

"Your father…erm…he didn't…on the committee…Draco's father…"

"Oh, gracious, no!!!" Virginie exclaimed. "He was in France at the time and couldn't make the hearing." She lowered her voice. "But between us, he said he would've agreed and found him guilty…"

Hermione nodded, then frowned. "It'll be fine. I just hope your families don't argue. You don't want this to turn into Romeo and Juliet."

"Who are Romeo and Juliet?" Virginie asked.

"You really should have taken Muggle Studies," Hermione scoffed.


	8. Malfoy Manor, Or As I Prefer: Hell

Malfoy Manor was a large, towering house built of stone that seemed perpetually dark, though it was daylight when she and Draco arrived by carriage. Perhaps it was the ivy growing all over the home, or maybe it was because all the curtains were drawn. Either way, the mansion looked foreboding and unwelcoming. Virginie's stomach lurched, and Draco, as if sensing her apprehension, reached over and took her hand gently.

As the carriage pulled up the long, winding driveway, Virginie could see two figures step from the front vestibule. Both had very long blond hair and were wearing black robes. When the carriage finally stopped at the front entrance, Draco's parents advanced toward the carriage, each looking extremely haughty. Draco climbed from the carriage and stepped out, holding his hand for Virginie to climb down. She smiled faintly at Draco—truthfully, she felt very ill indeed—and turned to his parents.

"Mum, Dad, this is Virginie de Gaulle. Virginie, this is my mother, Narcissa, and my father, Lucius," he said simply.

"A pleasure to meet you," Lucius smirked, bending to kiss her hand. "I know your father, of course, a brilliant wizard."

Draco's mother simply sneered, as if sizing up this miserable creature whom her son found so fascinating. Virginie tried smiling pleasantly at Narcissa for what seemed like hours, and she could feel Narcissa's cold stare look from her black satin robes and traveling cloak down to her stiletto heels. She wondered if heels were okay. She was second-guessing each thing she was wearing from head to toe.

"Charmed, I'm sure," Narcissa finally said, and gestured to the front door. "Come in. Welcome to our home."

Feeling as though she'd passed a sort of inspection, Virginie walked slowly into the entrance hall, feeling almost as nervous as she had the day she'd come to Hogwarts.

"My darling Draco," Narcissa simpered, removing Draco's traveling cloak. "How very hungry you must be, my dear. Come eat. Mummy has had dinner prepared."

After Draco had taken her cloak, they retreated to the dining room, which was long and narrow, the table stretching down the entire room. It must have been at least twenty feet long. The ceilings were high and the room was drafty, making Virginie shiver. She wished she'd worn more clothing. Satin never kept her warm. She hadn't, however, anticipated that any place could be colder than Hogwarts was at this time of year. Before she had a chance to do a warming charm on herself, though, a fire appeared in the grate.

With just the four of them at the gigantic table, the room seemed empty and, to Virginie, very sad. Her parents had four children (two boys and two girls), and the house was always full of warmth and laughter. There was never an underused room to be found in the de Gaulle house, which was indeed rather large, but not larger than they needed, as seemed to be the case in the Malfoys' home. She graciously ate the food that was presented before her, and she knew that the Malfoys could scarcely find room for complaint about her table manners. She had been trained at a charm school in France by the very best witches in the industry, and she knew her etiquette was flawless.

"Shall we retreat to the drawing room?" Draco's mother asked, as Lucius rose from the table.

They followed behind his parents, Draco's hand resting on the small of her back. She felt odd, as though she knew something was coming. It was bound to be awkward as fuck, she knew that. God, Draco looked delicious. He turned and flashed his lovely grey eyes at her. Oh Christ, how good he looked. She could just gobble him up. Yes, Draco, sit there on that sofa, let me just sit on your lap…

"Virginie, do tell us about your mother," Narcissa said, accepting a glass of firewhiskey from her husband. "I daresay we've not heard of her. How is that? Is she a Muggle?"

"Oh, no," Virginie answered quickly, knowing they would disapprove of that. She was taken aback by this forwardness. "My mum is French, born in Marseilles. I actually lived in Paris until a year ago, when I came to Hogwarts. You see, my mother approved more of Beauxbatons than Hogwarts. I presume you've never heard of her because she tends to fall in the shadow of my father. She likes being kept in the dark most of the time…she doesn't like being in the press. _The Daily Prophet_ can be cruel," she finished, knowing she had digressed.

"Ah," Narcissa said. "And what was her maiden name?"

"Arobin," Virginie said.

"Oh, of the Marseilles Arobins. I wondered when you mentioned Marseilles," Narcissa said, giving a curt nod of approval. Obviously she was more accepting now that she knew both of Virginie's parents were pureblood.

"Your mother must be a good woman, devoted as she is to her husband," Lucius said, and Virginie's pulse began to race. She knew what was coming next. "Yes, I do agree that it is a woman's place to stay home to care for her family."

To her annoyance, Narcissa nodded emphatically. Virginie's anger didn't have the opportunity to stew much longer though, because right after she had finished nodding, Narcissa touched Lucius's arm lovingly.

"Darling," she said, smiling in a way that made her look very attractive—much more so than when she was sneering, "Isn't she a very pretty girl? And she _looks_ like a Malfoy. Just the type."

They beamed at Virginie, making her extremely uncomfortable.

"We weren't expecting someone so beautiful," Lucius said. "You are very charming, as Draco has told us. And your manners—impeccable. Yes, you would make a good Malfoy. Very calm, composed, and most of all, regal. You have a manner that commands respect.

"Yes, Draco, we very much approve," he continued, nodding his head at his son. Instead of feeling elated, Virginie felt sort of nauseous at the way they were appraising her—as if she were a piece of furniture rather than a person.

"You see, Virginie, we have great things planned for Draco," Narcissa interrupted. "He speaks very highly of you, of course, but we needed to see for ourselves. Not just anyone would do. You…you are pureblood, a must for this family. You are beautiful…need I say more? Your poise and charm—that comes from your French upbringing, undoubtedly—are unmatched. Yes, you would make a good wife. And the Malfoys"—she turned to Lucius and began massaging his thigh—"treat their wives very, very well indeed."

_Erlack_, Virginie though, mentally gagging. Though if Draco's impressive endowments came from Lucius, she knew why Narcissa looked so happy…Ewewewewewewewewew…must stop this horrid mental image.

"Well, Mother," Draco said, finally speaking. "It is a bit early to think of marriage, though we have discussed it."

"It's never too early, Draco," Narcissa said.

"Even so, we must finish this year first, and we would both like to work for a year to save some money."

"Don't be silly, Draco," his father snapped. "We have plenty of money. And your mother and I will be buying your first house for you anyway. Don't worry about money."

"Even so," he said, and he cast his eyes downward. Virginie resisted the urge to take him in her arms and cuddle the poor boy.

"Oh my, it's very late," Lucius said, looking at his watch. "Narcissa, show the dear girl to her room, would you?"

"Of course, darling," she simpered, touching his shoulder before leading Virginie up the vast stone staircase off the main foyer.

"Lucius and I are in the West Wing on this first floor," she said, gesturing to the right on the first landing before they turned and ascended another staircase. "Draco's room is on the second floor, in the East Wing. We've put you in the West Wing on his floor."

They entered a rather large, drafty room, and Virginie saw her trunks stacked neatly in a corner. Narcissa lit a fire and a few lamps, and Virginie saw a very large four-poster bed in the center of the room, made up with blood red sheets.

"There's a bath attached here," Narcissa said, gesturing to a large oak door. "You should find everything you need."

"Thank you," Virginie said, managing a smile.

Narcissa, never breaking eye contact with Virginie, shut the door with her wand and advanced toward Virginie, until she was eye to eye with her.

"We've let you into our family now," she said, losing any trace of friendliness. "I will treat you as a daughter. If you ever, _ever_, I say, hurt my son, or damage his reputation in any way, there will be consequences. Being in this family means abiding by the rules. You've been warned. Sleep well." She exited the room in a swish of skirts.

Astounded, Virginie stood rooted in place. Her astonishment was broken only when one of the portraits on her wall—the one directly above her bed, placed squarely between the two headboard posters—said, "She's right you know. Don't you dare go tarnishing our ancient name."

Virginie looked to see a thin, snooty looking woman with silvery hair glaring at her from the portrait. She was wearing a black dress with a white lace collar and looked as if she weren't someone to be trifled with.

"Buzz off," Virginie snapped, drawing the curtain around her bed with her wand so that this foul old wretch wouldn't see her change into her pyjamas. She was completely naked when there was a knock on her door.

"Yes?" she asked quietly, Summoning a towel to wrap around herself.

"It's me," she heard Draco say, and, though she really had no desire to speak with anyone right now, let him in.

"Well, are you ready to leave now?" he asked angrily, storming into the room. "Hate me now? Hate my family?"

"No, no, Draco," she said, trying to calm him—but it was no use.

"I'll bet you do. They all do. They all run away. Well I'm not letting you!" he fumed, finally stopping to look at her.

Fatigue coated Virginie like a warm shower. She sank into a chair and began to cry. "D-Draco…I don't h-hate you…I just…shocked…why….yelling at me…didn't do…a-a-anything…" she broke down, sobbing hysterically into her hands.

"Fuck!" he yelled, sinking to his knees and putting his head on her lap. "So sorry…darling, don't cry….I love you…"

"Whaaa?" Virginie said through her tears.

Draco looked up at her. "I love you, Virginie."

She began to sob again, though this time it was because she was happy. "I love you too, Draco. And I'll always love you. No matter what."

They stood up and hugged, Draco's rage forgotten. Their happiness was interrupted, however, by applause from behind the bed curtains.

"What the fuck is that?" Draco said irritably, breaking away from her.

"Some old bitty who's been criticizing me," she answered, wiping away her tears and wrapping her towel more tightly around her.

Draco drew back the curtains soundlessly with his wand and climbed on the bed to look at the portrait.

"It's my great-grandmother, Selenia," he said. "She's got another portrait at St. Mungo's….wish she'd go there."

"Dear boy!" Selenia shrieked. "How dare you banish me, your own grandmother? And-" she gasped, seeing Virginie in a towel. "—How crude! I know you aren't married! Draco!"

"Go to St. Mungo's or you'll see something cruder," he snapped, coming back to Virginie.

They kissed softly as they made their way toward the bed. Virginie perched on the edge of it and wrapped her legs around Draco's waist, and they giggled through their kisses as Selenia gasped in horror and stormed from her portrait.

"I love you," Draco said as he gently pushed her down onto her back on the bed.

"I love you, too," she whispered. "Would it be rude of me to say 'I love you, now fuck me raw?'"

"No," he said, biting her shoulder. "In fact, it only makes me love you more."

She giggled as he tickled her legs, her laughter soon turning into moans.

Instead of falling right to sleep, as she often did after being with Draco, she found herself wide awake. She turned over and snuggled up to him. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head in return.

"I've never told anyone I love them before," he said hoarsely. "I never even say it to Mum and Dad."

"Really?" she asked. She herself said "I love you" numerous times a day when she was at home with her family.

"If you hadn't noticed, we really aren't the feelings type here," he laughed. "But you've been wonderful, really. Most girls would turn around and run for the hills."

"Can't say I didn't think about it," she admitted, stroking his hair. "But you're worth it. …D-do you really mean it when you say you want to get married?"

"Yes," he said simply. "I can't imagine ever being with anyone else."

"Me neither," she admitted, relieved he'd said it first. "Every other relationship…it was such a game. I feel so mature when we're together. This feels real."

"I know," he said. "And you…you're just…perfect."

And when she woke the next morning, his arms were still around her.


	9. Ghosts and Gouls of Every Age

The second day of their stay was Halloween, and Virginie was pissed about missing the Hogwarts Halloween feast; after all, it was their last year at Hogwarts, and she resented that she had to be here, at Malfoy Manor, being constantly watched by snooty Narcissa. She wouldn't be so bitter, perhaps, if the day had started differently.

"Wake _UP_!" Selenia bellowed from her portrait. She had returned sometime in the middle of the night.

Draco started, waking Virginie. "I'd better get back to my room, babe," he said, leaning over to give her many small kisses.

"_ENOUGH_!" Selenia screamed. "You should be ashamed! You aren't even married!"

She continued to scream while they continued kissing.

"I'll see you down at breakfast soon," he said. "Just make sure you get ready before you come down. They're really particular about that."

He gave her one last kiss and headed down to his own room.

Virginie stretched out in the enormous bed, sighing happily as she did so. When she finally decided to get up and begin getting ready, she wrapped a bed sheet around her (more for Selenia's good than her own—what did she have to be ashamed of?) and began looking in the closet to find something to wear. She settled on a black pencil skirt and white collared shirt when, as if she had been Summoned, there was a knock at her door and Narcissa appeared, carrying a small red velvet box.

"A gift from Lucius and myself," she said, presenting it to Virginie. "This has been in the Malfoy family for generations."

Virginie opened the box, which revealed an obviously ancient emerald and diamond tennis bracelet that was set in white gold. "Oh…Narcissa, this is lovely, but…how can I accept this?"

"My dear," Narcissa sneered. "If you think that is impressive, it's just the beginning." She held out her ring finger to make her point—on it was a wedding ring so humungous, Virginie didn't understand how she could move her hand.

"Thank you," she said, touching it lightly. "It's lovely, I mean it."

"You're welcome," Narcissa said.

To her surprise, Narcissa sat on the bed instead of leaving. Virginie didn't know what to do…did she dress in front of Narcissa, or simply make conversation until she left? Instead, she excused herself on the pretense of needing a shower. Narcissa _followed_ her. Luckily, she saw, Narcissa wouldn't be able to see into the shower if she stayed in the bathroom.

"You needn't be modest," Narcissa said. "Be proud of what you have."

_Freak_, Virginie thought, shampooing her hair faster than she ever had before.

"When I was your age, Lucius's mother used to follow me everywhere. She insisted that she needed to see what her son was to have. I never understood that. Did she think I had some sort of deformity beneath my robes?"

_What. The. Fuck._ Virginie thought, now lathering up her washcloth with soap. _These people are freaks._

"You know, you and Draco shall have it a lot easier than Lucius and I," Narcissa continued.

"How is that?" Virginie asked.

"Well," she laughed. "Lucius's parents came in on our wedding night….to be sure the marriage was consummated."

Virginie almost fainted with shock. "Er…you won't do that, will you?"

Narcissa laughed. "No, dear. I have no desire to see such a thing. Perhaps my husband does. We'll cross that bridge when we come to it."

Incredulous, Virginie stepped from the shower in her towel. She knew the shock was showing on her face, but she didn't care. Before arriving, she had known the Malfoys would be different, but she'd just expected lots of Dark Arts paraphernalia, not this. Not Narcissa Malfoy telling her that Lucius Malfoy may, if he had the inkling, be in the room as she and Draco made love for the first time as husband and wife. There was no way that was happening. She'd be sure of it. If she had to fly Draco to Romania under an Invisibility charm, she'd be sure his father wasn't in the room when they were having sex, ever.

The mansion was alive when she came down for breakfast. House elves were fleeting about, decorating the home for the evening's Halloween festivities. Apparently Halloween was a big deal at the Malfoys', but Virginie intended to stay out of the way. Truthfully, she was already exhausted from the pressure she felt from Draco's parents, as well as the feeling of constantly being watched. Plus, she was sure there would be unsavory characters at their home tonight, and she didn't want to be around such people.

Draco looked ravishing at the dining room table. All her misery forgotten, she sat next to him, and he welcomed her with a small kiss. She practically melted into the floor.

"How did you sleep?" Lucius asked.

"Very well, thank you," she said with a small smile, placing her napkin gently in her lap.

"Good," he said, returning to his _Daily Prophet_. "Narcissa, darling, there is an article about our little soiree this evening…"

"Well it's about time…we've been throwing it for years. Only the best for us."

After eating, she and Draco decided to escape the madness of the house and went for a walk.

"I know my family's insane," he said, as soon as they were off the grounds. "But…they're just rooted in tradition. I don't expect you to stay home, of course. Well…perhaps after we've had children, for a bit…"

"I know, Draco," she replied, adjusting the emerald bracelet around her wrist. For some reason, she couldn't help but think that it was somehow binding her to the Malfoys…

"Do you like it?" he said coldly, looking at her wrist. "It's ancient. Only the best for us."

"I love it," she grinned, standing on her tiptoes to give him a kiss. "It's beautiful."

He placed his hand around her waist and they walked on. They ambled in silence for a few moments, then Draco spoke.

"I can't lie to you, Virginie," he said sharply, his old tone of voice, so foreign to her now, creeping back. "I'm not a good person. There are things you need to understand about this family if you're going to be a part of it. You're first class, just like us, but I'm not just talking about behaviour…

"My family has a lot of Dark wizards. We don't like Mudbloods—" Virginie flinched as he said it, "—and I expect you to behave the same way."

She opened her mouth to protest, but he put a finger over her lips.

"I know Granger is your best friend, and that's fine—but I don't want you consorting with her in front of my parents, _ever_. She won't be able to come to our wedding. Understand that now. In fact, I doubt any of your friends will be able to come.

"And that bracelet you're wearing? It'll let my parents and me know if you step out of line: if you tell family secrets, if you out anyone, if you cheat on me. And you can't ever take it off, not while you're part of this family, so get used to it.

"I don't mean you can't talk about us to your friends or your family," he said, a trace of gentleness back in his voice. "But any family secrets, anything you hear about the Dark Arts, you can't mention. Do you understand?"

She nodded, staring at the ground, her eyes welling full of tears.

"Look at me," he said sharply, tilting her chin up so she would look him in the eye.

"I understand, Draco," she said just as sharply, looking into his grey eyes. "I told you, no matter what, I love you."

He seemed to transform immediately into the old Draco. "I love you, too, darling," he said haughtily, and he once again took her hand and led her back to Malfoy Manor.

And, even after all this, her feelings for him never faltered.

Halloween at the Malfoys' was delightful and horrid all at once. Guests began arriving around seven, when Virginie was curling her hair. She had decided to just pull it half up, because, despite all the guests, it was always rather cold here. Her dress robes for the occasion were on the bed, waiting to be donned, and her black satin pumps lay next to it on the bed. She looked in the mirror and found that she hardly recognized herself. How very grown she appeared. The emerald bracelet sparkled on her wrist as she put on matching emerald and diamond earrings.

Someone knocked, and she asked them to enter, though she was wearing just a bra and slip. It was Draco, clutching something in his hand. He looked ravishing in his emerald dress robes. Oh, how she ached for him…it would be hard keeping her hands off him tonight…

"You look stunning," he said, pausing behind her chair at the vanity. "After you've dressed, I have something for you."

"I'm ready now," she said, standing. He held the dress for her while she pulled it over her head. It was rather low-cut and she had to do some adjusting before she turned back to Draco, who gaped at the ample amount of cleavage showing.

"My gift?" she asked, an evil glint in her eye.

"Unnnnnnnnngh," he said.

"Tsk, tsk, Draco," she admonished, pulling him toward her by the neck of his robes. "No naughty thoughts…"

She kissed him seductively on the lips.

"We could stay up here," he suggested, rubbing her sides.

"Or you could give me my gift and we could go to the party your parents have been planning all year."

He spanked her and turned her toward the mirror, opening the box behind her.

"Close your eyes," he whispered, kissing her neck. She did as she was told. Something cold hit her neck, and she could feel Draco's long fingers fastening the necklace…oh, those fingers…

"Open," he said, breaking her daydream.

She obeyed. An elegant white gold necklace held a teardrop emerald and diamond pendant that matched her earrings exactly. "Oh, Draco…" she breathed.

He smirked, wrapped his hands around her waist, and kissed her lightly on the neck. Each kiss seemed to burn into her skin, and she moaned softly at each one. Their moment, however, was interrupted with a sharp knock on the door, followed by the entry of a house elf.

"Young Master, your mother has asked for you and Miss de Gaulle to greet the guests at the entryway," squeaked the tiny creature.

"Yes, fine," Draco bellowed, running his hands up her sides once more. She shivered.

The large foyer was quickly becoming crowded with guests. Narcissa shooed Draco to get at the end, next to her, to greet the guests. They first, of course, met Lucius at the door, then Narcissa and Draco, then Virginie, who was apparently being treated as though she were Draco's wife, instead of a casual girlfriend. She didn't understand how she had come here as Draco's girlfriend and seemed to be leaving as a fiancée.

Streams of wizards and witches poured in, most, she saw, bearing gifts for the Malfoys. All were very keen to meet her, and a few of them recognized her last name and began speaking French to her. They were nicer than she had anticipated, these guests, and she found herself enjoying the meet and greet at the front door.

That was, she enjoyed herself until she saw two very familiar faces frame the massive oak doorway leading to the foyer.

"Shit," she whispered, and Draco turned to her. "My parents!"

He looked at the stately-looking older man, her father, with the young-looking blonde witch, her mother.

"Etienne," she heard Lucius say with his unfaltering voice. "So glad you could make it. And this must be your wife? Ah, _bonjour_ Lisette, a pleasure to finally meet you."

"Stop looking at me like that," she snapped at Draco, whose desire for her was written all over his face. "I don't want my father to see."

They passed Narcissa, smiling graciously, which Virginie was sure was an act. Her parents had never spoken well of the Malfoys. Her stomach churned as they reached Draco, and their eyes turned immediately toward their daughter's familiar face.

"Virginie?" her mother asked incredulously, her eyes wide. "Here? Why?"

"Mother, Father," she said, her French accent very prominent now. "This is Draco Malfoy. My _boyfriend_."

They gawked.

"We will discuss this later," her father said in French. Turning to Draco, he said, "Lovely to meet you, Draco. A pleasure."

Her mother did the same, and they departed.

"What did your father say?" Draco whispered as her parents made their way into the large hall adjoining the foyer, talking rapidly in French.

"He said, 'We'll discuss this later,'" she said, her stomach churning more than ever.

He grinned maliciously. "You're in trouble. You're such a naughty girl. Do you need spanking?"

"I'll spank her for you, Draco," a rather portly man in maroon robes said, a dirty grin on his face. He had obviously overheard their entire exchange. "Wow, what a looker you've got yourself."

Draco looked rather disgusted at this blatant outburst for a moment, but then said, "Virginie, this is David. He's an American correspondent for the _Prophet_. David, Virginie…my girlfriend."

She smiled politely, as if he hadn't been rude a moment before. When he left, Draco turned to her and snapped in her ear.

"Hard to believe he's Pureblood, the way he behaves."

Virginie smiled faintly and turned to watch David make his way into the hall and tried to ignore that Draco had just said that. Before long, however, his comment was forgotten as they made their way into the hall with all the other guests and began to celebrate Halloween. Virginie and Draco snuck away around ten, and she didn't have the opportunity to see her parents before they left…not that she was disappointed.


	10. Back for More

They returned to Hogwarts on a cold Saturday afternoon, and Virginie gave Draco a small kiss before returning to her room in Ravenclaw. Once in the safety of her dormitory, she threw herself on her four poster bed and began to sob.

It wasn't that she didn't love Draco—it was, in fact, the opposite. She loved him so much that she found it difficult to break away from him. His family was atrocious, and her family did not approve; they had, in fact, sent her an owl at the Malfoys' the next morning (a Howler would have obviously given their feelings away). The gist of the letter said that they were very disapproving and also told her that she would find it very hard to break from the Malfoy family once involved with them—this she had known from the moment she slipped the bracelet on her wrist.

The bracelet—she had to tell Hermione about all this, but how? She sat up in bed, wiped her eyes, and looked at the bracelet sparkling so innocently on her wrist. She reached down to undo the clasp, but as she turned the bracelet over and over, she found that it had disappeared since she had put it on. She attempted to pull it over her wrist, but it grew smaller and smaller, until finally it began to squeeze her hand. Vanishing, Breaking, and Obliviating spells didn't work, either. Angry and frantic, she ran from the dormitories and down to the common room, looking for a familiar face.

"Luna," she said. "Could you do me a favor?"

Luna peered up at her. "Have you been crying?"

"Yes, but that's not the point. Could you possibly go to the Head Boy and Girl's Suite and ask Hermione if she could come down here, to the Ravenclaw common room?"

Luna stared for a second, then nodded. "Will you watch my chair?" she asked, leaving a heap of magazines beside it. "People always take my things."

"Sure," Virginie sighed gratefully. "Thank you so much, Luna."

Luna beamed and exited the portrait hole. It took about ten minutes before she'd returned with Hermione. They approached the chair by the window where Virginie sat, but she didn't even notice them: she was absentmindedly gazing out of the window and toying with the bracelet.

"Er…Virginie?" Hermione asked, sounding worried. "You okay?"

Virginie nodded, and finally looked up at Hermione. "Just…uhm…come upstairs with me, okay? I have a lot to tell you."

Hermione nodded resignedly, as if she knew this had been coming, and they walked up the stairs while Luna returned to her stack of magazines by the window.

"Spill," Hermione instructed after they'd drawn the curtains around the bed and put a Soundproofing charm around it.

"They're awful," Virginie sobbed, falling forward so that her head was at Hermione's knees.

"Er…maybe a little more detail?"

Virginie shoved her right hand upward at Hermione.

"Oh, what a pretty bracelet. It's from them, I expect, it's emerald and silver, Slytherin colors…"

"I can't take it off."

She dropped Virginie's hand. "What?"

"I. Can't. Take. It. Off," she repeated. "I've tried every charm I could think of. They've put some sort of spell on it so that I can't take it off. And it tells them if I've spoken ill against the family to someone I'm not supposed to, someone important or something."

Hermione gasped.

"And Narcissa and Lucius are awful. They act all nice, but then they lecture me about keeping the dignity of the family and how I shouldn't work when Draco and I get married—oh, by the way, apparently we're getting married now, we're not just a casual couple, according to his parents—and THEN Narcissa has the _nerve_ to try to _watch me in the shower_ and tell me that I have it easy because _Lucius's_ parents watched them _have sex for the very first time as husband and wife_.

"Oh and that's not all. I was next to Draco at the Halloween party like I was a fucking member of the family. They introduced me to everyone they know, and most of the men, by the way, hit on me and told Draco 'Good job,' like I was a prize that he'd won.

"_And_ Draco and I went on a walk in the country and he told me that his family are Dark Wizards and he doesn't mind you but his parents will and you can't come to our wedding—which, hello, I didn't know there was to be a wedding between the two of us—but you aren't to come and none of my friends are, either. I just don't understand, Hermione. I don't understand why I put up with this. It's just that I love him so much. He really isn't like his parents at all, but why do I stay?"

She heaved a great sigh and began sobbing again. Hermione rubbed her back and looked like she was in deep thought, then she sank down next to Virginie on the bed.

"He admitted they were Dark wizards?" she whispered.

Virginie nodded, and it was Hermione's turn to sigh.

"I understand why you stay," she said finally, after several minutes.

"Could you explain it to me?" Virginie asked snottily, dabbing her eyes.

"Well, it's simple: you do love him, and I know for a fact he loves you. And you think that he's not going to do anything bad because he knows you'll disapprove. This is somewhat true, I suppose, as he has improved quite a lot in the past few months. His parents technically can disapprove of me and all your friends as much as they want, but they want to protect their family name, so they're going to take every attempt to keep any of their actions concealed; that is, I doubt they'd involve you in anything, anyway, so you won't have much to hide.

"And who cares if I can't come to the wedding? We'll throw our own secret party afterward," she said, trying to convince Virginie it was all right. "You're a great friend, Virginie. I know you're torn right now, but Draco does love you…trust me, he does…and he's not going to risk anything to lose you. The only thing that really bothers me about your visit is the bracelet," she admitted. "It's rather scary, being bound to a family that isn't technically yours."

"I know," Virginie said stuffily. "Think they might have told me that before making me put it on."

"It is for their own protection, though," Hermione replied thoughtfully. "I wonder what kind of charm it is; it must be a good one, if you can't break it. I've been thinking since you told me and I can't think of anything else to try. It has to be some sort of Dark Magic or perhaps an ancient form of family magic that I'm not familiar with. It's genius, really."

"Glad you like it," Virginie snapped. "It's not clamped to your wrist for life."

"Makes you wonder what will be done to the conjugal bed," Hermione joked.

Virginie squeaked, and Hermione laughed. "I was just kidding," she said.

"We had sex twice the first night and three times the second…my room was right above theirs. If they don't know that we've already shared the conjugal bed, they're out of their minds," Virginie said, wiping her eyes and blowing her nose. She was beginning to feel better—Hermione always knew how to make her feel better.

"How do you know Draco loves me so much?" she asked suddenly. "You said that two or three times."

"Because," Hermione said matter-of-factly. "I always thought that he'd have tons of girls over, or at least Pansy Parkinson, when we became the Heads…but he never brought anyone over. And he was always asking me—" she paused and straightened herself up, looking haughty—" 'When is that French girl coming 'round?' 'Are you sure she can't come today?'" she mimed.

"He did not."

"He did. Every day. And he definitely knew who you were, but he didn't want to give it away, even though he obviously did. That's part of the reason I asked you to stay when I left."

"So you're the one responsible for me being utterly miserable in love," Virginie said, sticking her tongue out.

"Everyone's miserable in love," Hermione said wisely. "That's why it's love. Give and take."

Virginie turned over on her back and looked up at the ceiling. "I do love him, the arrogant prat," she said.

"So are you coming to the Suite or not?" Hermione asked.

She thought for a moment. "No…no, I think I want to sleep in my own bed tonight, while I still can."

Hermione nodded, hugged her, and left soundlessly through the door.

Christmas was nearing, and instead of going home, where she knew there would be a fight, she instead decided to spend the holidays with the Grangers. She had never been at a Muggle household before, and she was anxious to see how Hermione, and all the other Muggles, lived without magic.

"Tell your parents I'm going home to my parents," she snapped when Draco asked her—actually, it seemed like he was accusing her of wrongdoing—where she was planning to go for Christmas.

"They want to see you," he said.

"Too bad," she growled. "I'm going to Hermione's and that's it."

He pouted. "Fine. But you have to Apparate and come see me once a week or so."

"You just want me to come because you want to have sex with me."

"No!" he exclaimed adamantly. "I want to see you, simple as that."

"I'll think about it," she replied, packing things into his trunk for him. "Who says I don't need a break from you?"

"You love me. You can't be away from me," he smirked.

"Don't act like that, Draco," she snapped. "You'll make me want to try to stay away from you to prove I can do it."

He stuck his tongue out at her.

"You know you're rather lazy, Draco," she said, surveying the packing she'd done without his help. "I hope you don't expect this from me when we're married."

"Of course not," he said, levitating the trunk off the bed and to the floor, where it joined the other one. "We'll have servants, of course."

Rolling her eyes, she smoothed the sheets where the trunk had been and gave Draco a small kiss, promising to visit him when she could _possibly_ find a spare moment.


	11. Our Only Hope is the Lighthouse

Virginie couldn't believe how different a Muggle home was. How very odd, to have a thing called a television, which played programs and things called _movies_ that you stuck into a small machine. It was all very confusing, and she was embarrassed to think that Hermione's parents were probably laughing inwardly at the ineptness of their daughter's friend.

Also, there were _lights_ instead of torches and candles, and she found it amazing that you just simply flipped a switch and there was light. That in itself was almost like magic. AND there was heat without fires—hot air blew out from little vents in the ground and warmed the home…and it lasted through the night, too! The kitchen appliances were confusing, and it took much longer to prepare meals here than it ever had at her parents' home. Laundry was also a pain, as she had to fold her own clothing instead of simply waving her wand and having it fold itself.

All in all, though, Hermione's parents were very nice. They apologized for not being able to take them anywhere on holiday this year, but said that their practice was overrun with new clients. This was fine with Hermione and Virginie, who stayed in the house all day. Virginie found there was plenty to entertain her, magic or not.

There were, for instance, things called _CDs_ which played music in a stereo. She couldn't believe how much better Muggle music was than Wizard music. Typically the girls would stay in Hermione's room most of the day. They'd put a few CDs in the stereo and Hermione would sit down to read a schoolbook while Virginie perused the many Muggle books that Hermione had on her shelves. She'd read most of them by the third day.

A week into their holiday, Virginie lay on the floor, listening to the music with her eyes closed. Suddenly, a song came on that caught her attention more than the others. It had a very haunting sound to it, and the lyrics reminded her of her situation with Draco. She began crying silently, wiping the tears from her cheeks. When it had ended, she played it over again, and this time she murmured an incantation and her wand copied down the notes for the piano, as well as the lyrics. She decided to learn it, even if it was Muggle music. Never before had music affected her so.

"Are you planning to go see Draco?" Hermione asked, interrupting her thoughts.

"I don't feel like it," she whined.

"Oh really, Virginie," Hermione snapped. "It takes about two seconds by Apparition. If you don't want to see his parents, just go at night when he's in bed."

"Nuuuuuungh," Virginie groaned and turned facedown on the floor.

Apparently Draco had had that very same thought, for as she lay in bed that night, gazing at the ceiling in the darkness of her room, there was a small _crack_ and she looked to find Draco standing at the foot of her bed.

She sat up immediately. "How did you get in here?"

"It's a Muggle home," he answered coolly, removing his traveling coat and scarf. "There isn't any protection against Apparition. You might want to talk to Hermione about that."

"I will," she said. "Aren't you cold? It's well below freezing outside."

"Yes," he said, and climbed into bed with her.

She cuddled up to him in her sweats, sweatshirt, and socks.

"Just what I've always dreamed of, to be in bed with the most gorgeous woman in the world…and she's fully dressed," Draco teased, wrapping his arms around her. "Just kidding. You're warming me up…although it isn't hard. And besides your gorgeousness, how is it so warm in here? There's no fire."

"It's called central and ceiling heat. You see that box over there? You push buttons and it sets it as hot or cold you want it. It's amazing," she finished.

"Hmmm…Muggles certainly are inventive," he admitted.

Virginie suddenly thought of something. "Wait a minute," she said. "What on earth would your parents say if they knew you were in a Muggle home?"

"You don't want to know," he said gravely. "But it's all right. They're sound asleep, and I've put an Untraceable charm on myself. I left a note in my room saying I'd gone to Surrey to see Crabbe for a bit and that I'd be back by morning. They won't check up on me."

"Oh good," she smiled, leaning in to kiss him.

"Finally! I Apparated one hundred miles and just now I get a kiss!"

"Sorry," she said. "I was just so shocked."

He leaned down and kissed her again, leaning over her. She ran her fingers through his blond hair. He eased off her sweatshirt, then her long-sleeved t-shirt, and burst out laughing when he saw her tank top underneath.

"How many more layers do you have on?" he asked. "Is this going to take me all night?"

"It's cold in here!"

"I'm going to warm you up, don't worry…"

He kissed down her neck and bit her hard on her shoulder. She gasped with pleasure, then thought of something—

"Draco, stop," she commanded.

"Hmmm?"

"We need to lock the door…and….and we need a Soundproofing charm. I don't want to wake anyone."

"Oh, right…sorry, I'd forgotten…"

He did it quickly and then placed his wand on the nightstand. "Now, back to where we were…"

Draco took it very slowly, kissing her deeply and tenderly and running his fingers through her hair. When he was finally inside her, he moved very slowly, kissing her neck as he thrust deep inside her.

She gasped as she neared climax and threw her head back on the pillow.

"You okay?" he asked, moving from her chest up to her lips.

"Yeah," she whispered. "Harder…"

His thrusts, though still slow, were deeper and harder than before. She could feel herself getting closer and closer to having an orgasm. He was going so slowly, it was like torture…she could feel Draco trying to hold himself back from going faster, and it made her come even harder. She wrapped her legs tight around Draco's waist and brought his lips to hers as she came harder than she'd ever come with him before. His hot semen shot inside her, making her come again. Draco let all his weight fall on top of her and kissed her hard and long on the mouth.

"So good," he groaned.

"I told you all you wanted was sex," she said, pinching his arm.

"Owww!!! That wasn't sex," he snapped. "That was _loooooooooooooove_ making."

She giggled and kissed him again. "I love you. I'm glad you came to see me."

"I love you, too. I'm _very_ glad I came to see you."

"I'll come to your house on Christmas," she said as he snuggled up to her. "Draco, don't fall asleep. Your parents will look for you in the morning."

He groaned and hugged her tighter. She leaned over and set the alarm clock as Hermione had shown her. It plugged into the wall, very odd, but it seemed to work all right.

"I've set the alarm for six, Draco. That will give you enough time to get up and get home before anyone here or there wakes," she said, but when she turned to look at him, she found he was already asleep, his long, toned arm still wrapped around her waist.


	12. I'll Be Happy for Christmas Once Again

Christmas came before they knew it, and she and Hermione woke with piles of gifts at the feet of their beds. They'd slept in the same room that night, talking themselves hoarse until it was almost morning and the snow had piled up nearly a yard high. Virginie shook Hermione awake around nine after feeling the weight of her own presents at her feet.

She first opened a rather large box that was wrapped with paper that had real moving snowflakes floating airily over the paper, much like the snow that was falling outside the window. Inside there were 500 Galleons in a red velvet bag, a new set of dress robes, several containers of makeup ("Keeps your skin looking dewier than a morning buttercup!" one boasted), and, last but definitely not least, a very long letter—this gift was obviously from her parents. She put the letter aside, not wanting to dampen her spirits this early in the day.

The next package was extremely heavy. She opened it to find over two pounds of peanut butter fudge from Hermione, along with a charm that would remove calories and sugar from the dessert.

"Thanks, 'Mione," she grinned, taking a bite. "This will be gone by this afternoon, you realize."

Hermione grinned. "Thanks for the clothes, by the way."

"It is not a problem. I saw the shirt and thought of you right away. What's Ron bought you?"

"Dunno," she said sleepily. "Haven't got that far yet. Mum and Dad's and yours have taken me up to now."

"Same," Virginie said.

She began to open the rest of her mountain of gifts: a small certificate granting her a year's subscription to _The Quibbler_ from Luna; lovely French perfume from her friend at Beauxbatons; gorgeous Italian knee-high leather boots from her eldest sister, Berthe; and a book called _French Witches are Best: 100 Famous French Witches and Their Accomplishments_ from Harry.

The second-to-last present left at her bed's end was small and wrapped in shining emerald paper. Inside she found two exquisite hair combs that looked extremely antique and incredibly valuable. In fact, she found her hand shaking as she took them from the box.

"What's that?" Hermione asked, putting down a book she'd received from someone.

"Er….hair combs. Let me look at the note." She pulled it from where it lay, rolled tight at the bottom of the box and tied with emerald ribbon and read it aloud.

" 'Dear Virginie, We bid you Christmas tidings and hope that this joyful holiday finds you in the very best of health. We bestow upon you these hair combs, which have been handed down through the generations and date back to medieval times. They are invaluable, so treat them kindly. We send our love.

Lucius and Narcissa.

P.S. Draco has said you are coming tonight. Please do come before eight, as Lucius and I traditionally have many Christmas parties to attend in the evening.'"

She gave Hermione an exasperated look and Hermione snorted with laughter. " 'Please do come before eight,'" she mimicked in a posh voice. "Puh-lease." She returned to opening her gifts.

"I didn't think he would tell them, stupid git," Virginie muttered.

She reached for her last gift, which was rather large, almost like her parents'. It was wrapped in silver paper and was tied with a navy blue ribbon. The box had been bewitched to look somewhat normal-sized, but on the inside she found several more boxes that definitely could not have fit otherwise.

The first she opened contained many books she had wanted for quite some time, and she squealed with delight at all the new reading she had. Hermione, she saw, looked very jealous and asked to borrow them when she'd finished. The next she opened held a pair of, if she may say so, rather exquisite red satin stilettos. They had to have cost a fortune, and they were gorgeous. She was practically drooling. There was only one box left, which was long, but was quite thin.

She groaned, and Hermione looked up. "What?"

"That…little….wanker," she said. "This isn't a gift for me, it's a gift for _him_!" She pulled the lingerie out of the box and held it up for Hermione to see.

Hermione giggled. "I _wish_ Ron would give me a present like that. As I said before, he wouldn't dream of it even if I bent over in front of his face and begged."

"The note inside says, 'Wear this tonight.' What do you say I take it wrong and wear it in front of his parents with these extremely provocative red stilettos?"

"Virginie!" Hermione squealed. "I would say you wouldn't dare, but I know you would."

"Pity it's so cold," she said, putting it back in the box. "I'd do it if I wouldn't freeze my bum off while Apparating."

"Girls," a voice said, and entered their room. It was Hermione's mum. "Breakfast is ready, girls, if you'd like."

"Thanks, Mum," Hermione said. "We'll be down in a minute."

When her mother had shut the door, Hermione said, "You know, you're lucky that Lucius and Narcissa will be gone tonight. At least you'll be able to have a bit of a Christmas shag. Arthur and Molly _never_ leave, _especially_ on Christmas. And they aren't exactly accepting of unwed couples sleeping together. Did you know they put a jinx on each of our doors last time so that we couldn't get into each other's rooms?"

Virginie wrinkled her nose. "Well I'm sure Lucius and Narcissa would be the same way if they knew…well, maybe not. They didn't do anything like that last time."

After eating a hearty brunch, Hermione went to take a shower—she and her parents were leaving for the Weasleys' Burrow in an hour—so Virginie took her presents into her own room and sat down to read the letter from her parents.

_Dear Virginie,_

_Your father and I are very disappointed that you have not written us. It is against every principle that this family stands for that you are consorting with Wizards such as the Malfoy family. Imagine our sense of betrayal and shock when we entered the Malfoy home on Halloween, expecting to simply fulfill a duty for your father's work, and instead finding our daughter being presented to all the guests as if she were already in the family!_

_I do not know what to say to you, young lady, and your father's heart is broken. We, more than anyone else, understand what love can do to a young couple, to think they are invincible and unlikely to ever have trouble bestowed upon them, but let me tell you, Virginie de Gaulle: consorting with the Malfoys will bring trouble your way fast. Your father knows more than anyone, my dear, that no good can come from that family. Though he was in France at the time of Lucius Malfoy's trial, don't think he doesn't know that he was one of You-Know-Who's most trusted followers._

_Lucius and Narcissa may very well be nice to you now, for you pose no threat to their family. Once you have married into their family, however, I am sure there will be extra protection added for the safety of their family name, even if this means harming you. Draco, I could see from the night of Halloween, is infatuated with you, and I daresay perhaps in love. I have no doubt that Draco will never harm you, but I do not trust Lucius and Narcissa._

_I want you to also know that I support whatever decision you choose, because I realize that Draco is a very handsome, charming sort of boy, and I, too, would have fallen for him at your age. Your father swears he will disown you if you agree to marry Draco Malfoy, but I, my dear, will not, and though I highly disapprove as well, I know your father will come around with my persuasion. If you so choose to marry into the Malfoy family, your father and I will be wholly prepared to face the wrath of many of the members of the Ministry. Please know, Virginie, that, though I highly disapprove of your choices at this moment, I will always love and care for you, especially in your times of need._

_That said, I do hope you like your presents, darling. Father and I did not get you as much this year as we have in the past, mostly due to your father unwilling to spend money on you after what has happened these past few months. We are also quite disappointed you did not come home for the Christmas holidays. Anyway, please do write soon or come home for a visit. I miss you, and your father will, too, I am sure…when he finds it in himself to admit it._

_All my love and a very happy Christmas,_

_Mother_

Virginie was very confused by this letter. So…her mother disapproved but supported whatever decision she made? Maybe she'd have to read this again, but for right now, she found it very confusing. She decided to pop over at home before going to Draco's, making a mental note to herself to put a masking spell on the lingerie to make it look like one of her grandmother's nightgowns. Her stomach sank when she thought of her mother seeing the emerald bracelet and combs from the Malfoys, and dropped even further when she realized her mother would probably want to try the bracelet on, because she always, _always_ tried on jewelry that Virginie's sister, Berthe, received from her soon to be husband, Jean.

She showered and stood in her towel, trying to decide on an outfit. Finally she chose a smart, low-cut kelly green dress, tied a black scarf around the waist as a belt, and pulled on her new boots from her sister. She ached to wear the new stilettos from Draco, but they would be much too cold on the journey home and then to Malfoy Manor later. She pulled a long black peacoat from the closet and laid it on the bed. Waving her wand casually, clothes and pyjamas sailed from her closet and into a small overnight bag that was sitting on her floor.

Hermione knocked and hastily came in. She groaned when she saw Virginie. "Why do you always look so wonderful?" she yelled.

"What's wrong?"

"I have _nothing_ to wear!"

"Oh come on, Ron's family likes you already, you don't have to impress them."

"Yes yes, but I want to impress _Ron_," she whined, twisting her hands nervously.

Virginie walked across the hall to Hermione's room and wordlessly began assembling an outfit for her. "See, 'Mione, if you just take this dress I bought you—"

"No!" shrieked Hermione. "Too much cleavage!"

"Not if you put this camisole under it," Virginie said calmly, placing a ruched teal tank next to the dress. "Then later, when you and Ron go out for a drink, tank this off and just put the dress back on."

"Oh, I like that," Hermione said. "Thank you so much."

The two girls embraced, lingering a little longer than they normally would have because of their nervousness. Virginie turned to leave and they exchanged various words of reassurance to one another, finally dropping hands and wishing each other luck once more and promising to see one another in two days' time.

She was buttoning her coat and tying her scarf when she saw the elegant combs laying on her dressing table. How lovely they would look with her green dress and the emerald bracelet…oh, but she couldn't. Mother would notice, and Virginie knew she would disapprove of accepting so many gifts of jewelry from the Malfoys. Perhaps she was becoming addicted to this pampering, but she felt that she couldn't live without the combs in her hair, especially on Christmas…she kept thinking how pleased Lucius, Narcissa, and Draco would be if she wore them.

_What's it to Mother?_ she thought, grabbing them and pushing them into her hair. They glittered and were absolutely beautiful. She smiled at her reflection and was disappointed it didn't say anything back, until she remembered this was a Muggle home.

Grabbing her overnight bag and wand, she Apparated home. It took just a few short minutes before she found herself standing on a small cobbled walk leading to a very large wooden front door that had an enormous Christmas wreath hung on it, glittering with snowflakes. She gingerly walked up to the front door, and paused before opening it.

"Hello?" she called, taking off her coat and scarf and hanging them in the hall closet. "It's me…I've come home just for the day…Happy Christmas!"

She wandered about the large foyer…but of course, on Christmas morning her family was always in the parlor instead, where there was a fireplace large enough to warm them all with little effort. It was there she found her mother, father, three sisters, and soon to be brother-in-law sitting, drinking hot cocoa and listening to the warbling Wizard radio network.

"Hello," she said cheerfully, slowly entering the room.

"Oh, darling, you came!" her mother squealed, leaping from her chair to greet her. "Your papa was just saying how he missed you…Etienne, tell her!"

"Hello, dear," her father said wearily.

"Dad, I—" she began, but he held up a hand to silence her.

"You're a grown girl, you've got the right to do what you want," he said, hugging her, and she felt her eyes well with tears. He pulled apart and looked at her sternly. "But you tell that boy that if he ever hurts you, he'll be wishing he'd never been born."

Virginie smiled wanly. Her dad said this about every boy she'd ever dated. She supposed this was his way of accepting it.

Apparently having got the okay signal, her sisters and Jean scrambled to give her hugs as well. They all complimented her chic outfit and the jewelry.

"_Mon dieu!_" her mother exclaimed, looking at the combs. "Did they give you these? They must be worth half a million Galleons, at least!"

"How does it feel to have half a mil' in your hair, V?" Berthe laughed, poking her in the arm. "My ring cost a quarter of that."

"It feels good to be rich," she joked, "but I don't have the ring yet. I'll let you know when I've got that…if I can move my hand, that is."

"I've heard this Malfoy fellow is rather handsome," Jean said. "More handsome than I?"

Virginie blushed.

"I'll take that as a yes," he said.

It felt so wonderful to be back with her family once more. How lovely to feel comfortable in your old home again. She had never realized how lovely it was to feel this way until she'd lost it temporarily. Sadly she bid her parents and sisters good-bye around seven, but they understood that she needed to visit the Malfoys, who were, after all, soon to be another branch of her family.

Soon she was knocking on the Malfoys' giant front door, shivering in the vestibule. A very small witch that Virginie recognized as the maid answered.

"Oh, ma'am!" she cried, shooing her inside. "You look freezing! Give me your coat, scarf, and bag, and I'll let young Master Malfoy know you're here."

As the maid scampered up the stairs to fetch Draco, Virginie quickly performed a warming spell on herself, and instantly she felt revived. She checked herself in a large mirror in the entrance hall, and was pleased to see her cheeks had been returned to their normal rosy hue, and her skin looked as glowing and vibrant as it usually did.

Draco descended the stairs moments later and kissed her hello.

"You look impeccable," he whispered. "Do you like the combs?"

"I do," she whispered back, pulling him by his collar back to her lips. "Thank you for my presents."

"Thank you for mine," he responded. "God, you look wonderful. Happy Christmas."

"Happy Christmas," she said softly, kissing his soft lips.

A throat cleared behind them and they turned. The maid beckoned them to follow her, and they grudgingly obeyed. She led them to a room she hadn't seen on her first visit—it was a well-used family room, very cozy and bright—this was quite possibly the best room in Malfoy Manor. Lucius was sitting in a leather armchair in front of a blazing fire.

"Mister Malfoy, sir," the maid said, curtseyed, and left.

"Ah, Virginie!" Lucius said, rising to kiss her hand. "Thank you for coming. We've been looking forward to it all day. Happy Christmas."

"Happy Christmas," she returned. "Thank you for the lovely combs."

"You are most welcome, my dear," he replied, gesturing for her and Draco to sit. "And might I say you look very lovely this evening. You always have the perfect taste in clothing."

Virginie blushed. "Thank you, sir, you flatter me."

"I give compliments where they are due," he responded haughtily.

"How is Narcissa?" she asked.

"Mum always takes hours to get ready on Christmas," Draco smirked.

"Now, now, Draco, don't chide," Lucius said softly. "But yes, Narcissa is putting the finishing touches on her own outfit. She should be down momentarily. She is very anxious to see you again."

While they waited for Narcissa, they made small talk about Hogwarts and life after school, including asking them where they'd like to live, which made each of them very uncomfortable. Thankfully, Narcissa entered soon after in a swish of black satin, and they were saved.

"Virginie, darling, it's wonderful to see you again. How very disappointed we were that you were spending the holidays with your parents. 'Ah, Lucius,' I said. 'The day shall soon come that the de Gaulles and the Malfoys shall spend their Christmases together, with many grandchildren.' I do hope I'm right," she added.

Virginie smiled feebly and returned Narcissa's small hug. They all sat around the fire. Draco squeezed her hand and smiled gently at her.

"My two darlings," Narcissa said, addressing them as if they were _both_ her children. "Your father and I have found the perfect plot of land for the two of you to build your house on, haven't we, Lucius?"

Lucius gave a curt nod of his head.

"Oh, it's lovely. We can build you a nice-sized home on it, and it's not too far—about halfway between our home and your parents' home, Virginie, just perfect. There are no Muggles around and I think it would be just perfect."

"Oh Mother, we aren't even engaged yet," Draco snapped.

"Better to start early, my dear," Narcissa replied. "We can have the home finished and magicked by the time you're ready to move in."

"I think it sounds lovely," Virginie said, before Draco brushed her off again. "I'd love to go see it."

"Perhaps tomorrow morning, dear," Narcissa said, brightening that _someone_ appreciated her hard work. "Shall we call your parents to go?"

"Yes, please," Virginie said. "I'll send an owl tonight."

"Have them come here, and we shall all go together."

Lucius glanced at his watch. "Time to go, darling."

"Oh, how time flies!" she said, standing and hugging both Draco and Virginie. "You'll be all right, then? The maid is here on the ground floor if you need something in the night. Otherwise, the home is yours. We shan't be back until nearly daybreak. Do tell your parents not to call until two tomorrow, Virginie," she said, sounding exasperated.

And with that, they Apparated.

Draco turned to Virginie. "Time for fun?" he asked hopefully.

"You are a very naughty boy," she chided, "sending me that lingerie. That was a gift for you more than for me!"

"Exactly," he said, kissing her.

She excused herself upstairs to her normal room and put on the lingerie she'd bewitched to look like a grandmother's pyjamas. She sauntered down the stairs, finding Draco at the foot of them.

"Sexy lingerie, eh?" she grinned, turning.

"Erm…darling…that's not what I sent," he said, surprised.

"Was it more like this?" she asked, waving her wand and changing the grandmother robe to the sexy black negligee he'd given her.

"Put those boots back on," he commanded. She Summoned the knee highs from her sister and put them back on.

"You look good enough to eat," he grinned, pushing her into the dining room.

A week was the longest they'd gone without being intimate together, and it seemed that Draco had been building his stamina for every day they'd been apart. They fucked in the dining room and kitchen, had great sex in the parlor, and finally wound down by making tender love in Draco's bed between the green silk sheets.

"Our first Christmas together," she whispered as Draco was drifting off to sleep.

"It was wonderful," he whispered groggily, pulling her closer.


	13. A Not So Modest Proposal

Virginie stirred her cauldron furiously. Three clockwise, four counter, one straight up and down, repeat. She was sweating from the effort of it and from the steam that rose in heart-shaped, pink clouds from the cauldron. Today they were making a very strong love potion. Their results were going to be fed to the castle's thestrals, who were hesitant about mating.

Draco was next to her, also stirring his cauldron furiously, though he wasn't sweating as she was. In fact, he looked rather relaxed, but she saw that his potion was issuing billows of grey smoke instead of the pink hearts she was achieving.

"Draco, add more crushed iris," she hissed, still stirring.

He quickly did as she instructed, and his potion immediately turned the bubblegum pink Virginie's was.

"Thanks," he whispered back.

It was the day before Valentine's Day, and classes were becoming extremely demanding. She hardly had time to see Draco these days other than at meals or for a quick chat on the way back to their common rooms. She hadn't slept over at the Suite in three weeks, because she found that she didn't get nearly as much work done there as she did if she stayed in her own common room, where other seventh year Ravenclaws were also working diligently into the night, frequently jinxing those who disturbed the silence. With N.E.W.T.s fast approaching, the younger students took to quiet games of chess instead of their usual Gobstones, not wanting to face the wrath of the seventh years.

She wasn't the only one who hadn't been visiting the Suite lately. Ron usually accompanied her part of the way from the Great Hall after meals, complaining about how much work he was sitting on.

"Hermione won't help me with any of it, either," he complained.

"It's your work," Virginie snapped. "I mean….sorry, Ron, I wasn't trying to be mean, I'm just so stressed."

"Yeah, well, join the club," he snarled as they parted ways for their common rooms.

Because she had always been a natural student, it was an incredible challenge for her to learn the things that came so difficult: Arithmancy, for one, was killing her. Night after night after night she spent hours poring over the books, trying to make sense of the complicated charts and numbers, but she found the answers simply did not come, and she became increasingly worried about her Arithmancy N.E.W.T.

But tomorrow was Valentine's Day, and she and Draco had planned to spend it together. Lucius and Narcissa had urged them to come to Malfoy Manor for the weekend, but honestly that wasn't Virginie's idea of fun, not to mention that she had a load of work to do—she planned to eat with Draco and return straight away to her common room.

Draco's parents were a sore subject with her anyway. The day after Christmas, they'd all gone to look at the land they'd mentioned. Virginie's parents were pleased at how close it was to them—almost equidistant to them and Lucius and Narcissa. Draco and Virginie complained, saying that they'd rather not rush into anything, but the very next day Lucius purchased it, and began discussing with Draco and Virginie the sort of house they'd want.

She knew she shouldn't complain about receiving a brand-new home as her wedding gift, but quite honestly, she felt that this sort of left an open invitation for Lucius and Narcissa to visit whenever they wanted, and she did _not _want that to be the case. It really wasn't a matter of them being there, it was a matter of them trying to force their values onto Draco and Virginie.

For example, Virginie already had an interview arranged for the first of March at the Ministry of Magic's International Magical Cooperation Office, as a post-Hogwarts job of Ambassador to France. She was incredibly excited about the prospect of being an ambassador from Britain. It was a very lucrative position, especially for someone just out of Hogwarts, so quite obviously everyone was raving about it…everyone but Lucius and Narcissa.

"My _dear_," Lucius sneered, "I have told you before I prefer that women tend to their domestic duties."

"Lucius," she replied, her eyes blazing and cheeks growing red, "Quite frankly I do not care what you think at this point."

She'd told Draco that if he opposed her working, she'd not marry him, and he swore it was fine. She just didn't want to live in a home that Lucius and Narcissa had paid for, because she was worried they'd hold that over her head when she went to work.

But she couldn't think about that now. Her potion was thickening fast, and she needed to add the redcurrant rum.

"You look lovely when you're all sweaty with your hair pulled back like that," Draco said, grinning at her.

"Shut up and leave me alone," she snapped, slowly adding the rum in a circle around the cauldron as the instructions stated.

His face fell. "I was paying you a compliment," he said coldly.

"And I'm making a potion that counts for a grade, so leave me alone," she replied, just as coldly.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw that Hermione was shaking with silent laughter as she added rum to her potion. Hermione knew better than to bother Virginie in Potions class. In fact, everyone had expected her to go on to further schooling after Hogwarts to become a Healer, or else to develop Healing potions for St. Mungo's. Obviously that line of work interested her, but she'd much rather be able to travel to France and meet incredibly important wizards on a daily basis. Perhaps she would go to school part-time so that she could eventually do both.

"Time," Slughorn called, and she quickly bottled her potion and presented it to him.

She quickly cleared her cauldron and put things into her bag, then stood and waited for Draco. He gave her an apologetic smile as he shoved books into his bag, and it made her feel horrid about snapping at him. When he'd finished, he took her hand and they began walking to the Great Hall for dinner.

"Sorry I snapped at you," she said. "You know how I get in classes."

"You're almost as bad as Granger," he replied. "_Almost_. But don't worry about it. I'll be lucky to scrape half the grade you did."

"You'll be fine," she said.

He snorted. "I'll be lucky to scrape a N.E.W.T. in there. You save me half the time. I don't know why you don't want to become a Healer. You're so great at Potions."

"I was thinking I might take classes part-time," she replied. "If they offer me the ambassador job…well I can't turn something like that down."

"No, no," he said quickly. "It's great, I just thought you might enjoy being a Healer more."

"Eventually I probably will end up doing that," she replied. "If they don't give me the job, I'll definitely be going to more school for that."

"I'm excited that I actually get to be with you tomorrow," he said.

"I'm on my period," she replied quickly.

He stopped, and a scared-looking first year almost bumped into him. "D'you think that's all I want you for is sex? I _miss_ you. We hardly ever get to talk. I just meant I'm glad we get to talk again and simply be in each other's presence for more than a half hour."

She smiled widely and kissed him. "You're just lovely."

"I know," he grinned.

After a nice dinner in which Harry and Draco did not, for once, try to jinx each other, she returned to the Ravenclaw common room, talking animatedly to Luna about a Veela who once tried to attack her mother after thinking she was an old classmate who'd stolen her boyfriend. It had been a rather good day; she'd earned one hundred points altogether for her house and she was already excited about her job interview, though it was still fifteen days away.

The next morning she awoke when she felt something silky touch her face. She swatted it away, as if it were a fly, and tried to sleep again. Over and over they brushed her skin lightly. Finally she opened her eyes, and she gasped.

Small, silky paper hearts were falling like snow from the ceiling over her bed. The bed was already littered with the hearts that had fallen while she'd been asleep. She held her hands up and caught them, giggling like mad until she heard someone come up to her bed.

"What's that giggling about?" she heard Padma Patil say.

Virginie flicked her wand and opened the bed hangings, and the girls standing around them gasped and started screaming and clapping with delight.

"How romantic!" Padma exclaimed, hopping on Virginie's bed and catching some of the paper hearts with her hands. "Is it like snow, can I taste them?"

Virginie giggled. "I don't know, I haven't tried."

Padma stuck her tongue out and caught one of the larger hearts. "Mmmm…cinnamon!"

All the girls, including Virginie, started catching them with their tongues. They were causing such a ruckus that the fifth years who lived next door came in to see what was happening, and they, too, started trying to catch the hearts with their tongues.

"Look!" Padma said, pointing toward the ceiling.

They all obeyed and found a large red envelope floating down. It landed on Virginie's lap and sprang open of its own volition.

_My dearest,_

_If you think this is something, just wait until you see what I have for tonight. Please arrive dressed for warm weather._

_Until then, however, know that I love you more than life itself. Here is an early gift—a finished plan of our home._

_Yours,_

_Draco_

_P.S. I've decided to name our first son Rufus. If you don't believe me, check the house plan._

She giggled and shut the note.

A fifth year who was sitting on Luna's bed sighed. "You're so lucky to have Draco. He's just…gorgeoussss…"

Luna, from the head of her bed, shot the girl a look of utter loathing and asked her if she would mind getting off her bed.

"You know," Padma said, glaring at the girl, "Virginie's old boyfriend, Chris, dumped her for a fifth year. Perhaps you'd be better off going with him instead of after Draco, because I'm pretty sure he's not interested in anyone else."

Virginie giggled and blushed.

"Let's go down and eat, V," Padma said, climbing off her bed. "Those hearts made me _starving_. I really hope there wasn't something in them."

"I doubt it," she replied. "Draco's hopeless at Potions."

They were giddy with laughter the whole day after that.

Her afternoon was spent in front of the common room fireplace with Padma and Luna, writing a particularly complicated Charms essay. Around four, she bid the two good luck in finishing their work and headed off to the showers.

_Dress for warm weather_, she thought to herself as she stood in front of her wardrobe. She settled on a printed shirtdress, nothing overly fancy, and styled her hair as usual, so that it was straight, gleaming like spun gold. She was wearing the bracelet, of course, but that was her only jewelry. At five, she left the deafening silence of the Ravenclaw common room and headed to the Suite. Draco was waiting outside the portrait hole when she entered, and instead of ushering her inside, he took her arm and led her down the corridor to a staircase. She decided it was best not to ask any questions.

They soon arrived at an old, empty classroom. Before she could ask questions, however, she stepped inside and realized that it had been transformed. They weren't in a dingy classroom—they were in Morocco! There was a small, solid wood table for two on what had been bewitched to look like a balcony overlooking a city glistening with lights. In the center of the room leading to the balcony, though, there were silk scarves hanging from the ceiling down to the floor to enfold a large, circular pillow, forming an intimate sort of tent.

"Oh, Draco," she breathed, and she actually swooned. "I just swooned."

He laughed. "You are a silly, silly girl. Let's go out to the balcony. The view's even better from out there."

He was right. It was warm, beautiful, and incredibly romantic. He poured her a glass of wine from the small cart that sat next to the table.

"Draco…how did you?..."

"Hermione," he answered. It was the first time he'd said her first name.

"It's…it's…" She couldn't even find words.

"You're welcome," he said, taking her left hand in his right. He lifted his glass of wine.

"To us, and our very first Valentine's Day together…and many more on the way."

"Cheers," she whispered, and took a sip of her wine.

Draco served her a five-course dinner that was absolutely amazing, and when they'd finished their last, he took her hand and led her into the room with the enclosed circular pillow. He stepped in first and took her hand to help her in, so that she didn't wobble or trip with her heels on.

"Dessert," he announced, producing a silver cake tray laden with small boxes made of _chocolate_.

"Oh, you know my weakness," she said, reaching for one of the boxes to see what was inside.

He shooed her hand away. "Not so fast, de Gaulle," he said smoothly, picking up the tallest of all the boxes.

He opened it, revealing what appeared to be a mousse. Though Virginie had formerly been disgusted by anyone coming remotely close to her mouth, she found it incredibly romantic when Draco began feeding her the mousse from the box. It was dark chocolate mint, and it was _divine_.

"Why are there three boxes?" she asked. "Give me the rest of that box so I can eat it all gone."

"Shhhh," he admonished, though he was smiling. "There is reason behind this madness."

He took the next smallest box, which was made of white chocolate and had pink flecks mixed into it, and opened it, revealing six truffles.

"Draco, stop feeding me all this chocolate. Why do you have to go and make me so incredibly happy?"

"The last box is best," he said, lifting a dark chocolate truffle from the box and feeding it to her gently.

"Nothing could be better than this," she said, closing her eyes to luxuriate in the wonderful flavors in her mouth.

"I want you to open this one," he said, handing it to her. It was very small and made of dark chocolate.

She did as he instructed and eagerly opened the lid. Inside was a platinum ring with a very large diamond solitaire in the center. Baguette diamonds flanked the solitaire, forming the band of the ring. She gasped and dropped the box, but Draco caught it swiftly in his hand.

"Virginie," he began, shooting her a gaze that burned her to the core. "I know we haven't been together long, but I know that what we have is true. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me, and…" His voice cracked a little and his eyes became very watery. "I just can't imagine my life without you in it. You are…perfect. Every day I thank whatever force brought us together. Would you do me the honor of marrying me?"

"Oh, Draco, yes!" she sobbed, hugging and kissing him. He sobbed freely into her shoulder, and for a few moments they clung to each other, crying hysterically. When they pulled apart, he wiped his eyes and pulled the ring from the box, sliding it on her finger.

She looked down at it.

"What are you thinking?" he asked.

"You just _had_ to propose to me when I was on my period!"

He laughed. "You're crazy. I've been planning this since Christmas."

"Get to know my cycle, fiancé."

"Yes, dear," he mimed, and she giggled and kissed him again.

"I love you, Draco Malfoy," she whispered.

"I love you more, Virginie de Gaulle…Virginie Malfoy," he whispered back.

They hugged, and when they'd separated he looked deep into her eyes. "I really have decided that we'll call our first son Rufus," he said. She smacked his arm playfully.


	14. Accidents Happen

She was sweating profusely. Above her, the Great Hall's enchanted ceiling was cloudless, and the sun bore down on them as they took their N.E.W.T. It was Arithmancy, and it was her last exam for the term, so she found it hard to focus—not only because of the promise of freedom after this, but because of the level of difficulty at completing an exam when the grounds outside promised a cool breeze.

Virginie looked around. Next to her, Hermione was scribbling furiously, also sweating. Virginie returned quickly to her paper; mostly, the exam had gone well, and she was glad she'd put in all those long hours of studying.

After she'd finished, she checked all her answers and, satisfied, leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes. She drifted off to sleep, waking only when the ancient old witch who was proctoring the exam called time.

"Thank God," she breathed to Hermione as they left. "All finished."

"It's a bit bittersweet, though, isn't it?" she said. "I'm really going to miss Hogwarts."

"Definitely," Virginie replied as they opened the giant front doors and went out to the grounds. "In two weeks' time, we'll be in the real world."

She'd gotten the job as Ambassador, which had pleased her father immensely. He promised he'd done nothing to help her get the job, but she still wondered. Though she, too, was sad to leave Hogwarts, she was excited to begin her career and to begin taking Healer courses in September.

Harry and Ron were continuing on to become Aurors, while Hermione, Draco, and herself were heading straight to work. Hermione was starting as a Wizard, Witch, and Magical Creature Rights Representative in the same department as Virginie—International Magical Cooperation. Her job title had more characters than her wedding invitations. Draco would be working alongside his father, but only, as he frequently said, until he found something better.

"What time are we leaving?" Hermione asked. She, Ron, Harry, Draco, and Virginie were all going to see Draco and Virginie's new home, which had just been finished two days ago, that night.

"As soon as we can," she replied, then giggled. "We've all been putting so many charms and things on the home, but Lucius and Narcissa don't know about some of them…no one but Draco and I can open the doors to the home unless we lift the charms to allow others to do so. Pity they've let such a clever witch marry their precious son."

Hermione giggled nervously. "So we won't have to worry about them coming?"

"No," Virginie said firmly. "And you know you are welcome in my home _anytime_. I've also put a charm on the windows so that they can't look in…and if Muggles happen to look in, all they see are Draco and myself in normal clothing watching that television thing."

"Wow," Hermione said. "Come to our home when we've finally got one."

"I will."

They met the rest of their friends under a giant weeping willow tree by the lake. Harry, Ron, and Draco had all finished their exams the day before and had been enjoying the time off all day by first playing a friendly game of Quidditch and then lounging lazily under the tree.

The boys stood as they approached, and put his arm around Hermione's waist and asked how the exam went, and Draco did the same.

"Better than I expected," she replied.

"Well that's good. …Are you ready to show them the house?"

"Yes. Are we all ready to go?"

They nodded and set off toward the front gates so that they could Apparate. Soon they arrived in the country and found themselves outside the gates of a lovely two-story Tudor styled home. They entered the wrought iron gates that had a large "M" down the center and started up the path to the front door.

Hermione was extremely impressed by the charm Virginie had put on the front door, and Draco embarrassed her by telling everyone how wonderful she was and giving her a burning look.

"Here we are," Virginie said simply, leading them into a small entryway that held a small table and a grandfather clock. There was a staircase leading up on the left and three different doorways.

She locked the front door and turned to the right, opening French doors and leading them into the parlor, which held a grand piano and four oversized armchairs.

"Bit smaller than Mum and Dad's," Draco said, understating it quite a bit, "But we like it smaller."

"It's lovely," Hermione said, running her fingers along the piano.

The parlor adjoined the dining room, which was much smaller and cozier than Lucius and Narcissa's. Virginie opened another (smaller) French door and led them into the large kitchen.

"Oh, it's lovely!" Hermione said, examining all the cupboards and counters.

After they'd shown them the rest of the house (next to the kitchen was a large family room, and upstairs were four bedrooms), they adjourned to the enormous sunroom off the kitchen.

"I love it," Hermione said as soon as they'd sat down. "I know Lucius and Narcissa thought it was too small, but it's lovely."

Harry and Ron nodded.

"Do you want to stay for lunch, or should we go back to Hogwarts?" Virginie asked.

"Let's stay!" Hermione said eagerly, and everyone else heartily agreed.

The boys helped peel potatoes while the girls began cooking a giant pot roast. Their duty done, Ron, Harry, and Draco went out back so that Draco could show them the rest of the grounds. Virginie and Hermione busied themselves, cooking the potatoes, making a soup, and beginning to make a large apple tart for pudding. The kitchen seemed happy to finally be used, and the cooking went extremely well. Virginie felt elated at finally being in her own home, her own kitchen. She'd been aching to cook for Draco for ages, and she was glad she finally had a chance.

They sat down to eat shortly after—French onion soup with loads of cheese on top, a large salad, pot roast, mashed potatoes, gravy, and for dessert, the apple tart with ice cream. They lingered at the dinner table for over two hours, until Ron pushed back his chair and groaned.

"Great lunch, girls," Draco said, leaning over to kiss Virginie. "I won't be able to move the rest of the night, but still…"

"Thanks," they said. Hermione looked at the clock on the wall.

"We'd better get back to Hogwarts!" she exclaimed. "It's nearly four…I promised Professor McGonagall I would help grade the first years' exams at five this evening."

Grudgingly, they levitated all the empty dishes into the kitchen, where they began washing themselves in the sink. Hermione, Ron, and Harry left soon after, apologizing for not staying to help set things back in order and lock up, but it was fine with Draco and Virginie. They watched them each Apparate once outside the gate, and they closed the front door once more.

Virginie returned to the kitchen, moving her wand lazily to make the dishes dry and put themselves away. Draco came up behind her and began kissing her neck.

"You're wonderful," he said.

She giggled in response as he tickled the back of her neck with his kisses. They left the clean kitchen and found themselves heading up to the master bedroom.

"A great way to end my exams," she laughed as she pulled off her shirt.

Draco gave her his infamous burning gaze and pushed her toward the bed. They hadn't been together in what felt like ages—probably close to three weeks—and they hungrily ripped each other's clothes off. Virginie straddled Draco on the bed.

"I thought this bed was only for _marital_ bliss," she joked, looking down at Draco's expectant face.

"Shut up and fuck me already," he groaned.

She willingly obeyed, and they both came loud and hard. She was glad she was finally under her own roof, where she could do whatever she wanted and didn't have to worry about getting into trouble or disturbing anyone.

"God, I can't wait 'til we're here for good," Draco said after, kissing her right shoulder.

"I know," she replied, turning toward him and stroking his face. "I love you."

"I love you, too," he said. "And in two months, I'm going to marry you."

Her eyes welled with tears and she hugged him.

"Don't cry, I won't be that bad of a husband," he joked, holding her tight.

"Shut up, I'm crying because you're hopelessly wonderful," she sobbed into his chest. He kissed the top of her head. As her sobs subsided, she drifted back to sleep and didn't wake until the next morning, when they returned to Hogwarts and were greeted by a very harassed-looking Professor McGonagall.

"De Gaulle," a voice snapped, making her twitch. She looked up to find Apollo, her boss, standing above her. "What are you lazing about for? You're due to meet Madame Maxime in ten minutes. We have to leave soon to get to the lobby."

"Sorry," she replied, though she _had_ been working on a particularly important letter to one of the governesses of France.

Work had been going smoothly, and it helped that Hermione was in the cubicle next to her, her desk littered with countless memos. Hermione daily received a stack of mail the size of her desk, but she managed to get most of it finished before lunchtime, at which time she left to make her calls to clients. Virginie, on the other hand, spent hours writing a single letter, or moving about the building to translate or greet incoming guests. She had already made one trip to Paris and another to Monaco. She'd had to postpone her visit to Marseilles due to her wedding, which was in just three days.

Today Madame Maxime from Beauxbatons was arriving, and she had particularly requested Virginie, one of her ex-pupils, to be present. Maxime was to meet with the Wizengamot to discuss plans for increased security at Beauxbatons, but because the school was so small and exclusive, she needed extra support—hence why she'd come to Britain. Virginie was extremely excited and giddy to see her old headmistress again.

Three inter-office memos soared above Virginie's head and over to Hermione's desk. She heard Hermione groan loudly as she read the first.

"Bye, Hermione," she said, leaning over the top of the cubicle. "I shan't be back; I'm going home after we fix this business with Maxime."

"All right," Hermione said absentmindedly, reading the second memo. "Do you need help doing anything tonight?"

"No, the coordinator is taking care of the wedding business. Tomorrow, though, I may need you to fetch some things from the market—my relatives are flying in from France and I shan't have time to get anything."

"All right. Say hi to Draco for me."

"I will. Take care," she said, hoisting her bag over her shoulder, and, with a wave of her wand, clearing her desk for the day.

She met Apollo at the door—he looked very anxious—and they took the elevator to the lobby.

"Lucky you have the next two days off," Apollo scowled. "I definitely don't want to meet those wretches from Transylvania. Always scowling, those lot. Gives me the creeps."

"So sorry I took two days off for my wedding," she retorted. "And, well, would you rather be at home, having Narcissa Malfoy fretting about you? I think not," she finished for him.

"Think she'll come along for the honeymoon?" he teased.

"Don't joke about such a thing," she snapped jokingly. "She just so—" She stopped mid-sentence and clutched her stomach.

"Are you all right?" Apollo asked. "Pre-wedding jitters maybe?"

"Er…let me out!" she exclaimed. "I need the restroom."

He hastily stopped the elevator at the next floor and she bolted for the loos. She vomited for what felt like hours and finally emerged looking, she knew, very pale.

"You okay? We're going to be late," he said, hurrying her back to the elevator.

"I feel faint."

"Maybe you have the flu. Perhaps you ought to just go home…I can handle this."

"No…no, Maxime will be annoyed if I've skived off."

"Virginie, you're not skiving, you're ill," he insisted, as the elevator stopped at the lobby and they exited and moved toward the giant fountain.

"I'm not," she said. "I'm fine. There's nothing wrong with me."

"Suit yourself," he said. "Just don't throw up all over Maxime, please, I beg you. This is our job."

They stood expectantly, while several important-looking witches and wizards dashed around them. Virginie scanned the itineraries she had for Madame Maxime but found herself feeling nauseous once more.

"Sorry," she said to Apollo, rushing into the loo next to the fountain.

"Lucky she's late," he grumbled when she'd returned, handing back the papers she'd thrown him in her rush to get to the restroom.

She apologized once more, told him she was sure it was just a virus, and continued scanning Maxime's papers. Someone walked by and pinched her shoulder. She resisted the urge to tell the person off, for she was at work, when she saw it was Draco.

"Oh—hello," she said stupidly.

"What is _wrong?_" he gasped, seeing how pale she looked.

"She's been retching all morning," Apollo said, leaning toward Draco, as if trying to inform him without Virginie hearing.

"What? Go home," he commanded.

"Draco, no, Maxime will be here any minute, and after I lead her to the Wizengamot I'll go, I promise," she said. He looked very unconvinced. "I was supposed to eat lunch with her, but I won't, all right? I'm going to just go home after I take her there."

He looked at Apollo, who shook his head. "Make sure she goes home," he said to him. "I have to get upstairs. They're having a trial soon." He kissed her cheek and was gone.

Maxime finally arrived, and she began briefing her, in very fast French, what was to happen, handing her itineraries as they walked. She was starting to feel nauseated once more, but she suppressed it and tried to make Maxime feel comfortable. Soon, though, she felt dizzy, and her legs gave out.

She was on the floor and couldn't open her eyes, but she could hear gasping and voices talking above her…she could hear snippets of conversation…

"New ambassador to France…Draco Malfoy….Wedding in 72 hours…Call Etienne, he's presiding in the dungeon…Call Draco….She looks so pale…"

She tried to groan and sit up but found that no sound came from her mouth and she had not moved at all. What was going on? She felt _fine_.

A few minutes later, she heard her father's voice above her, speaking quickly to Apollo.

"Just collapsed, sir. She'd been sick twice in the loos. I don't know what's happened to her."

Then Draco's voice: "She should have gone home. Why doesn't she listen? Does anyone know what's happened to her?"

She felt herself being lifted and carried, but without any idea where she was going. Draco was holding her hand tightly and her father was telling someone to notify her mother to come to St. Mungo's.

When she woke, the bewitched windows in her room showed it was dark outside. Draco was sitting bedside, but her parents were not in the room.

"Oh, thank God," he breathed, hugging her. "Don't ever scare me like that again."

"What happened?" she asked groggily. "Is Maxime angry? Oh, I must write her. Get me parchment."

"Don't worry about Maxime," he snapped. "Apollo took over, it's fine. You were dehydrated from being so ill that you fainted."

"I should have listened to you," she said quickly.

"Yes, you should have," he said coldly, glaring at her. "You're stressed out from this wedding. Lucky you can just relax tomorrow. I've taken off work. I'll take care of everything at home tomorrow, including your relatives."

"Thank you," she said, squeezing his hand. He grinned very widely.

"What?" she asked. "Why are you smiling so much?"

"Well, they found out why you were sick," he said. "Why you were retching so much."

"Why? And why does it make you smile?"

"We're going to have a baby," he said, grinning broadly.

"What?"

"You're pregnant."

"No I'm _not_!" she exclaimed.

"Yes, you are," he replied.

"Am not!"

"Are so!"

"How?"

"Well, when a man and a woman really love each other…," he began.

"Don't _mock me_," she snapped, and then she lowered her voice. "I've been performing the birth control spell afterward, _every time_. I've done it right every time!"

"Are you sure?" he asked. "I've had a lot of time to think about this, you know….every time you've done it, you've always held my hand while saying the incantation…and….that time….that first time we were at the house, after Hermione had left…you didn't do it," he said dumbly.

"Why didn't you _tell me_?" she roared, sitting up in bed.

"Shhhhh," he whispered. "Virginie, I forgot, too, okay? We don't have to be perfect all the time."

"We do when it concerns _children_!" she screamed. "We do when it concerns _our FUTURE_!"

"Lower your voice," he snapped. "Our parents are outside in the lobby."

"Do they know?" she whispered.

"No. The nurses and the Healer who examined you made them leave before they told me."

She sighed with relief, then sank into her pillows.

"What are you thinking?" he asked.

"I'm thinking we're covering this up. Tell everyone it happened on the honeymoon. I had wanted to be married a few years at _least_ before this happened. But…what's done is done."

He nodded. "Well….I think it's excellent."

"You would," she snapped.

"Why are you yelling?" he asked.

"You would think it's excellent, because you aren't the one who's going to end up in St. Mungo's three more times or risk losing her job because of pregnancy or lose her figure for the sake of the baby…I'm not ready for this," she finished.

"You're exactly eight weeks pregnant."

She managed a small smile. "I guess this could work. You know our baby is going to be the most gorgeous creature in the entire world."

"I know," he said, crawling into the hospital bed to wrap his arms around her. "I love you. I'll love you no matter how fat and ugly the baby makes you."

She let out a cross between a laugh and a sob. "Thanks."

He laughed and kissed her forehead. "Oh come on, you'll always be gorgeous."

She hugged him tightly until a Healer came in to check on her and told him to climb out before he crushed her.


	15. The Subtle Grace of Gravity

I

She was washing dishes at the sink; or, rather, she was flicking her wand lazily while they washed themselves. One of the plates began to fall because she had been staring blankly out the window. Her stomach, however, was a burden she was still unaccustomed to, and she bumped into kitchen sink as she stepped forward to save it; it broke.

Swearing loudly, she repaired the plate so that it was once again seamless. Draco looked into the kitchen from the family room.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing. It's my stomach. I'm not used to this."

He laughed and returned to his chair by the fire, where he was reading a letter from his father. They'd been married for two months, and she was now four months pregnant, with a small baby bump that she'd been trying to conceal, especially at work. None of her colleagues knew she was pregnant yet, and she preferred it that way. She was worried they'd treat her differently—more gently than professionally.

Both sets of parents knew, however, and only one was happy—the Malfoys. Virginie's parents told her that though they were happy to welcome a grandchild, they would have preferred that she enjoyed a few years with Draco before having their first child. She'd explained to her mother in the privacy of her own bedroom how it had been a mistake.

"I cannot believe I was so stupid, Mother, I cannot," she sobbed, her French accent emerging once more. "I did not want this to happen."

"Everything happens for a reason," her mother said sagely.

She had tried to live by this for the past two months. It was trying, however, when Narcissa was constantly sending her owls at work, and they were always some dumb little reminder about what she'd done when Draco was a child, and whether Virginie liked this certain fabric for the baby's bedroom. It was always the same, as well—never fit for a little girl. It was always, _always_ for a boy. Virginie was inwardly hoping for a girl. That would show them.

"Darling," Draco beckoned from the family room, breaking her thoughts. She wandered near the fire. "That man I told you about—Wheelock—should be here any moment. It shouldn't take long. Just a favour I'm doing for my father. We'll be in the parlor." He muttered something under his breath and she gasped.

"Did you just say what I think you said?" she admonished.

"Sorry," he apologized. She'd heard him loud and clear: he'd muttered "The filthy Mudblood."

"One of your best friends is Muggle-born," she snapped.

"Hermione's different," he persisted. "She—"

He was cut off by the bell ringing, and he rose to answer the door. She followed so that she could be introduced. Wheelock was very dirty looking, and Virginie cringed when she thought of him sitting on her lovely new furniture. He did seem rather kind, sure, but seedy all the same. Once she'd been introduced, she excused herself up to her bedroom, where she changed into comfortable stretchy pants and a long-sleeved shirt.

As she brushed her teeth for the fifth time that day (for some reason, she couldn't get enough of the taste of her toothpaste since she'd been pregnant), she began hearing scuffling downstairs. At first she thought perhaps they were having a friendly argument, but it was when she heard something that sounded remarkably like the shattering of her grandmother's five hundred year-old vase that she realized something was wrong.

She flew down the stairs and flung open one of the doors, turning to the side and narrowly escaping a hit from a flash of yellow light. The men had not seemed to notice her yet, being absorbed in their argument.

"You took it, you filthy Mudblood," Draco snarled, his wand raised menacingly.

"No, sir," Wheelock pleaded. "I gave it to Greenman."

"Greenman?" Draco snickered, advancing toward him. "No one's seen Greenman for three months and you've had it for just one. We'll see if you're saying that after this. _Crucio_!"

The man sank to his knees, writhing in agony. Draco's face was twisted and sadistic as he held his wand to the man's head. Virginie gasped and covered her mouth with her hands. Draco looked over, noticed her, and immediately dropped his wand. The man collapsed onto their floor, breathing hard.

She pleaded with him with her eyes, wondering how he could do such a thing. Words came to her, but she found herself unable to speak. Dumbly, she just stood there, her mouth wide. Then, without a backward glance or any regard for what was happening, she turned and stormed upstairs to their bedroom, where she threw herself into bed, turning toward the window. Tears streamed silently down her cheeks and dampened her pillow.

What upset her most was that Draco didn't come straight up to check on her. It was over an hour before she heard him shut the front door and walk around downstairs, probably checking to see that all the fires and lamps were extinguished before coming upstairs. He entered their bedroom gingerly and didn't light any lamps as he undressed and crawled into bed.

"Virginie," he said calmly from his side of the bed.

She didn't answer.

"There are some things I have to do," he said quietly. "You wouldn't understand."

"No, I wouldn't," she snapped.

"You once told me you'd love me for who I am, for what I do. Have you changed your mind already, after just two short months of marriage?" he said, and she could hear the mocking in his voice. Her anger rose.

"This has nothing to do with my love for you," she snapped, still facing away from him on the bed. "This has to do with your character as a person."

"It was just some Mudblood," he snapped.

She turned toward him, with some difficulty due to her extra weight (Draco noticed and automatically reached to help her, but she wouldn't let him touch her), and spat, "I don't give a _fuck_ about that man. I'm talking about our child. Our unborn child. What in the _world_ are you planning to teach him or her when he or she is born? You're going to teach the child to hate Muggle-borns, when one of your best friends is one? _That's_ won't confuse the child at all!"

"Oh come off it, I'm letting our child nowhere near any of this. I did that for my father as a _favor_. I would _never_ allow our child to witness something like that."

"Oh but you'll keep doing it, will you?" she snapped, turning back over so she was away from him; truthfully, she didn't want him to see the tears that had welled in her eyes once more.

"I have to," he said quietly. "As long as my father is alive, I have to."

She said nothing, because she knew it was true. They were indebted to Lucius and Narcissa for the house, and if they were to break free of them they'd have nothing, and both of them knew it.

Draco rolled over and put his hand on her arm, but she swatted it away. "Don't you touch me," she screamed, her tears coming faster than ever now.

He didn't say anything, as she'd expected, but instead lay back on his pillow, looking at the ceiling. "I had to do it," he whispered quietly, as if trying to convince himself. "I'm sorry you had to see it."

"Oh, but you're not sorry you did it!" she exclaimed, sitting up in bed and glaring at him.

"I had to do it," he repeated, looking at her. He saw the tears glistening on her cheeks. "Darling, don't cry," he begged.

"I just….to walk in…._my own husband_….Unforgivable curse…._fuck_…"

They sat in silence for a few moments.

"Draco….you could lose your job," was the only thing she could find it in herself to say.

"Least of my worries," he grumbled. He folded his arms behind his head, still looking at the ceiling.

She bit her lip, unsure of what to say.

"Draco," she said again, softly.

He looked over at her, his hands still folded behind his head.

"I love you, no matter what you do," she said.

"I know."

"Please…I'm begging you…never…_never_…do or say anything like what you did tonight in front of our children."

He propped himself on his right elbow to look over at her, leaning against the headboard, her hands on her small belly.

"I wouldn't dream of it," he said seriously, looking deep into her eyes. "You and this baby…you're my world. I never want to hurt you. I know how much I did tonight."

Tears caught in her throat, so she just nodded. He pulled her down to him and she sobbed into his shoulder as he stroked her hair and kept saying "I'm sorry" over and over again. Desperately she clung to him, until she finally fell asleep.

II

"Turn and lay on your left side," the Healer instructed.

She obeyed. It was March, and she was at the end of her pregnancy. Flowers were beginning to bloom and it was becoming warm once more. This was her last check-up before delivery, and the Healer was making sure everything was going smoothly.

"Everything fine, then?" Draco asked concernedly as the Healer placed his wand back in his pocket and sat in his large, squashy armchair to scribble some notes with his quill.

"Everything is looking great. We're right on schedule, kids," the Healer grinned. "In two weeks' time or less, you'll have yourselves a baby."

Draco smiled and looked at Virginie, but she had burst into tears.

"She's been very emotional lately," he apologized, handing Virginie a handkerchief.

"No need to apologize to me, sonny boy," the Healer said, taking out a quill and writing notes onto a parchment chart. "See it all the time. I advise a healthy dose of comfort food and lack of any mothers-in-law."

Draco laughed. "Don't worry, we've got that under control."

"Oh, and…it's safe to continue with sexual activity again," he added. "In fact, it could induce labour." The Healer smiled and shook Draco's hand. "Well, I'll see you two kids soon," he promised, patting Virginie reassuringly on the shoulder as he left.

"Darling, your robes," he said, picking them up and carrying them to her.

She had stopped crying and gave him a hard kiss on the lips, wrapping her legs around him from where she sat on the examination table. Draco ran his fingers through her hair as he kissed her and groaned. They hadn't been allowed to be intimate for the past month due to the risk from the pregnancy—there had been a risk of early labour.

"We can't have sex in the Healer's examination room," Draco said, though she noticed he had unbuckled his pants, and he made no move to stop kissing her fiercely.

"Oh come off it, they've seen everything," she said, ripping off her exam gown, turning over and bending over the examination table.

He placed his hands on her hips, and she could feel him start to push into her. "You know," he groaned. "From back here I can't even tell you're pregnant."

"That's nice, now stop teasing me!"

He pushed himself the rest of the way inside her, and she gave a low moan of pleasure. He was so big and rock-hard. She supported herself by her elbows on the exam table as he drilled into her over and over, making her bite her lip to prevent herself from crying out.

"Oh _fuck_ yes," he groaned, coming deep inside her. "Oh God that was amazing."

"Let's have sex in the Healer's office more often," Virginie said, kissing him while she put on her robes.

"We'll do it every time we come for visits," he agreed, opening the door for her.

III

She was leaning on the side of the hospital bed, against Draco's chest. The Healer was poking her gently with his wand, and she could feel her pain subsiding. This was it—they were going to have a baby. She'd been in labour for sixteen agonizing hours, and just now she was seven centimetres, the magic point: the Healer could numb her spine.

"Are you okay?" Draco asked gently, rubbing her shoulders.

She groaned in response. The numbness was sinking in, thankfully. The de Gaulles, Malfoys, and Ron and Hermione were waiting outside. When she'd been situated, she asked Draco to get Hermione for her and to take the rest down to get tea, for it was well past time, and she knew they all had to be starving.

Hermione entered, looking worried. "How are you? I do hope he's done the numbing right. Sometimes it can go awry and your pain will come back—"

"I'm fine," she interrupted. "I can feel the pressure, but there's no pain."

"Oh good," Hermione breathed, taking a seat bedside. "Think you'll be up to being my bridesmaid?"

"I wouldn't miss it for the world, Hermione," Virginie said truthfully, grasping Hermione's hand as she had another contraction. "Just alter the dress….I'll probably weight twenty stone still."

"Oh stop," Hermione snapped. "You'll look better than anyone else there."

Virginie groaned. The pressure was increasing.

Hermione knew this. "It shouldn't be long now," she said. "If you get the urge to push, tell me, and I'll go get the Healer. I think it's a boy."

"What? No, it has to be a girl," Virginie snapped, taking a sip of the pumpkin juice on her bedside table. "I don't want it to be a boy, because Lucius and Narcissa will fall all over themselves with glee."

"No, I think it's a boy," Hermione said with a note of finality. "You're carrying it all in front; if you were having a girl, the weight would be all over your body: your face, your legs, arms, etc. But it's all in your stomach. It has to be a boy."

"Shut up," Virginie snapped, grabbing Hermione's hand once more as another contraction came.

"I'm glad Lucius and Narcissa have been nice to Ron and me," Hermione said thoughtfully. "Did you do something?"

"Draco talked to them. Well, we both did. We threatened them with not being able to see their grandchild if they didn't straighten up."

"That explains it. They've been very civil to the both of us. Are you all right? You look pale," she said, standing to look at Virginie.

"It just hurts," she said quietly. "Could you…" She paused as a particularly strong contraction came. "Could you maybe go get Draco….and the Healer….I feel like I need to push….get Draco first….please…"

Hermione nodded, and without a word she Disapparated, presumably down to the cafeteria. Seconds later Draco appeared, looking very worried.

"What's wrong?"

"I think this is it," she said breathlessly, squeezing his hand.

"Hermione's gone to get the Healer," he said. He was looking incredibly anxious and couldn't sit still—it was the closest she'd ever seen him to being unnerved and it frightened her.

"Stop," she moaned. "Please be calm, Draco, please. You keep me calm."

"Okay. Okay," he said, leaning over her. "Calm. I'm calm."

The Healer entered with two nurses. "Are you feeling the urge to push, Mrs. Malfoy?"

She nodded.

"You are fully dilated, so I'm going to numb you now…if you could just edge yourself to the end of the bed…that's it….now I want you to stop resisting the urge to push, and simply work with it now."

She did as he said. The pain was incredible—worse than anything she could have imagined. She resisted the urge to scream, however, and forced all her energy into pushing. Though she was grasping Draco's hand tightly, she didn't look at him, because she could sense his fright.

After almost twenty minutes of pushing (five of which she had to stop pushing because Draco had almost fainted and the Healer had to prod him with the counter charm), she felt the pressure lift and the doctor held up the screaming baby.

"A boy!" he bellowed, cleaning the baby with his wand.

It was a blur—Draco was kissing her, telling her he loved her, the baby was crying as he was weighed and prodded with wands, and one of the nurses left the room to tell the others. While she and Draco were still whispering lovingly to one another, they heard a loud _CRACK_ and turned to look.

"What's happened?" Draco said sharply, and Virginie sat up in bed.

"Don't be alarmed!" the witchy nurse said, shooing Draco away. "Although you needn't worry—your baby's a wizard, not a Squib! We always test, see….gave him a pink pacifier and he switched it to a blue one."

Virginie sank back into bed with relief—not only because the baby was fine, but also because he was a wizard. Oh God, how ashamed she'd be if her baby had been a Squib, coming from two completely Pureblood families.

The witch handed her the baby…oh God, how wonderful he was…just absolutely perfect. She began sobbing, and Draco put his hand on her shoulder. How far they'd come in just a year and a half was incredible…

"Smile!" one of the nurses exclaimed, and they obeyed.

"Our first family portrait," Draco said earnestly.

"You're very corny and predictable," she chastised softly, caressing the baby's soft cheeks.

"Shall I go get our families?" he asked, kissing her on the forehead.

"Could you just get my mum and dad first? Or even just the mothers first? I don't want too many people in here at once."

He nodded and left. She looked at her gorgeous baby boy—he had very fine blond hair and rather chubby cheeks…he was now sleeping peacefully in her arms. Love like she'd never felt before coursed through her veins like poison.

The mothers entered and immediately began gushing over the baby. Narcissa and Virginie's mother had a small but friendly argument, each saying that the new baby looked just like their child had when first born.

"Do you have a name, darling?" her mother asked, holding the baby.

"Yes….Preston."

They both (surprisingly) nodded agreeably.

When all the family had gone and the baby had been taken to the nursery, she flicked out the lights with her wand, and Draco crawled into bed with her. He put his hand very lightly on her arm, as if afraid he would hurt her. Her heart swelled with love for him…they were a family now—Draco, Preston, and herself—and she couldn't wait to begin their lives together.


	16. A Nice Little Break

"You're sure you'll be all right?" Virginie asked worriedly, as Narcissa tried to pry Preston from her arms.

"We'll be fine!" she insisted. "He's two months old now—plenty old enough to stay with Grandmother and Grandfather…right, Preston?"

Preston cooed.

"See, Virginie? You'll be fine. You and Draco need Mummy/Daddy time," she winked.

Lucius came to the entryway. "What's wrong?"

"Virginie is having a hard time leaving…and who wouldn't?" Her tone of voice suddenly changed when she was talking to Preston. "Who could ever leave this cute little boy? The most precious boy in the whole world!"

Virginie put her hands on her head. "Stop, you're making it worse!!!"

Narcissa laughed and tried to shoo her out the door.

It was May, and she was leaving Preston with Lucius and Narcissa, for tonight was Hermione and Ron's wedding—_finally_. She and Draco decided that it was time for a well-deserved break, and as Narcissa had said, some Mummy/Daddy time. It was fairly early, but she had promised Hermione that she would stay with her the whole day. The wedding was to take place at 2:30 in the afternoon, but they had appointments for facials at nine.

Hermione shrieked when Virginie had Apparated at the spa.

"I can't believe I'm getting married today!"

"Me neither! …Are you getting waxed while you're here?"

"_Virginie_! I can't believe we went straight from me getting married to me getting waxed!" she shrieked once more.

"What?!" Virginie asked earnestly. "Well, I just wondered…Draco and I are having a night alone tonight….I'm getting waxed. You could at least do it for your wedding night, for God's sake."

Hermione giggled as they were led to the changing room in the back, where they began shedding their robes. "Well that hurts, doesn't it? I don't want pain on my wedding day."

"I'll give you pain: you've been fooling around for hours, and he's just about to put it inside you when the baby starts _screaming _bloody murder. That, my dear, is pain."

"Well I don't forget to do the spell afterward, so I don't have that problem," Hermione snapped, wrapping the terrycloth robe around her.

"Ouch," Virginie retorted. "That really hurt, Hermione. I mean, ow. I'm wincing with pain."

Hermione rolled her eyes as they were led to the mud baths. They each sank into theirs, and the spa witch covered their eyes with cucumbers and began massaging their faces with the mud as well.

"Well you'll get your chance tonight," Hermione finally said. "You don't have Preston back until Sunday…that gives you two nights all to yourselves."

"You know I was just joking about my feelings being hurt, right? …But yes, I am looking forward to being alone with Draco. We're staying at the inn tonight…it's so romantic you're getting married at the seaside, Hermione."

"It was a bit of a stretch…Ron's mum had a fit about it…but in the end, my parents persuaded them. Ron's family is just Apparating home afterward…I have the feeling they opposed a seaside wedding because of the cost of a hotel room. But all in all, it should be just lovely. Thank you so much for all your help."

"I had a great time helping you, so don't mention it. Lucky for you, you won't have Narcissa Malfoy as a mother-in-law."

"Well she's gotten loads better, hasn't she?" Hermione reasoned. "At least she hasn't been to the house every day."

"I know, I know," Virginie answered dismissively. She had turned to look at Hermione before remembering they couldn't see each other for the cucumbers. "I just don't like discussing 'Mummy/Daddy time' with my mother-in-law. It's just awkward for me. Like, 'Oh well, I know my son has only been getting blowjobs for the past two months, so now that you can have sex again I'd really like it if he got the full monty, he really needs to get laid'….I mean, that's just wrong."

Hermione laughed. "Well at least they acknowledge you're having sex. Molly won't even let us sleep in the same bed until we're married. Remember how I said she put the jinxes on the doors? It's gotten even worse, even since we've been _engaged_. For God's sake, does she think we're innocent? Sure, we don't live together, but it's right down the street!

"And, moreover, Ginny's moved all her things into Harry and Ron's, preparing for when she graduates Hogwarts…what the _fuck_?!"

"Ah, well, he's perfect Harry Potter," Virginie laughed. "He's allowed to put his penis wherever he pleases."

"You are a _mother_!" Hermione hissed, but then she started laughing. "I'm glad you're like this again, though. I missed it when you turned all lovey-dovey with Draco, and then all maternal with the baby…_I MISSED MY PERVERT!_"

"I missed her, too," Virginie giggled. "Draco just said that the other day…he said, 'Now that the honeymoon's over, we can go back to being our normal selves.' I said, 'What, so you're going back to hating Harry and Ron and I can go back to giving you blowjobs in the shower?'"

Hermione giggled—though perhaps a little apprehensively at hearing what she had to say about Harry and Ron.

"So he said, 'No, just the blowjobs in the shower. And maybe a good shag or two on the dining room table….oh, and tell me you could use a shot of Draco at least once a day.'"

Hermione laughed, then asked, almost nervously, as if she didn't want to know, "What's a shot of Draco?"

Virginie got a fit of giggles so uncontrollable that she couldn't talk for a moment. "Oh….I guess I never told you about that. It's rather corny, really…I _love_ giving him blowjobs…and every time I was in the mood to do it, I'd say, 'I could really use a shot of Draco right now.'"

Hermione laughed until the witch came back and steamed off their mud masks, and she only stopped then because the witch got a bit of mud in her mouth.

Feeling rejuvenated and silky smooth (Hermione had gotten the wax after all), they Apparated to a lovely inn at the seaside, where their things were already waiting in Ron and Hermione's Wedding Suite.

"Only an hour, Hermione," Virginie said as she styled Hermione's hair in the bathroom of the suite. She was curling it into large waves so that it looked sleek and smooth instead of bushy, though it was still curly.

"Don't…I can't think straight!" Hermione squealed, looking very pale. "Where's Mum?"

"I'm here, darling," Hermione's mother called from the sitting room that joined the bathroom to the bedroom. "Do you need me?"

"Just don't leave!" Hermione called. Virginie saw that she was wringing her hands.

"Hermione, it's going to be all right," Virginie said soothingly as she sprayed hairspray from her wand. She rubbed Hermione's back reassuringly.

"Oh, it's just gorgeous!" Hermione exclaimed, ignoring Virginie's reassurances to survey her hair in the large mirror. "My makeup, my hair…everything looks great. Thank you so much."

She reached over to hug her, but Virginie screamed, "Your makeup!" and she backed away. They went into the sitting room, and Hermione's mother rose from the sofa and took Hermione's dress from the nearby closet.

"Darling, are you ready to put on your dress?" she asked. Hermione looked positively frightened, but she nodded, and her mother held it open while she stepped into it.

"Oh, Hermione!" Virginie exclaimed. "You look just lovely!"

It was true. Hermione's dress was off-the-shoulder, with a lace-embroidered top and three-quarter length sleeves. The bottom half was tulle and satin. She looked very elegant and, Virginie thought, very grown up.

"I'm fighting the urge to cry, I'm fighting the urge to cry," she kept repeating to herself. "Virginie, get dressed, so I can tell you how pretty you look. I need something to occupy my mind."

Virginie giggled and changed into her bridesmaid dress—it was a pale aqua, strapless, floor length dress that she had been extremely apprehensive about wearing, but lucky for her, she'd lost all of her pregnancy weight the month after the baby, and now she was back to her normal thin but curvy self.

As soon as she'd finished and before Hermione had a chance to comment on her appearance, there was a knock on the Suite door. Virginie went to answer it while Hermione's mother fawned over her, adjusting her dress's train and adjusting folds of tulle that were perfectly fine.

It was Draco. He grinned evilly as she opened the door. She put one hand on her hip and leaned against the door, blocking Hermione from view.

"And what exactly do you want?" she enquired.

"I come bearing a note that is not for your eyes, only Hermione's," he said. "Aaand I do not think I can trust you to deliver this without opening it, so I shall have to come in."

"I don't think so, buster," she said, still blocking the door. "You're trying to sneak a look for Ron."

"Am not!" he said.

She looked at him before sizing him up, then finally opened the door a crack so he could sneak in.

"This is from Ron," he said to Hermione, handing her the note. "I was instructed to wait here until you answer so I can give it back to him."

Hermione looked confused, but when she opened it, she giggled. She quickly scrawled something on the parchment and handed the note back to Draco, who grinned.

"You look very lovely, by the way," he said to Hermione, and she blushed. "Not so bad yourself, de Gaulle," he murmured as he passed her. She swatted his behind as he left the room.

"What'd it say, Hermione?" Virginie asked, for Hermione still looked very red.

She giggled uncontrollably. "It said: 'Do you love me? Check yes or no.'"

All the girls dissolved into fits of giggles…the note was ten times funnier than it normally would have been due to their nerves.

The wedding went off without a hitch, and then it was time to have fun—Hermione's family had hired a band for the reception, and she and Draco had a lot of fun dancing and making fools of themselves the entire night. Draco danced with Hermione and Virginie with Ron…Hermione's mum seemed to have a slight crush on Draco and danced with him several times.

When a slow song came on near the end of the evening, Virginie went over and cut in.

"Finally!" she whined, wrapping her arms around Draco's neck.

"What can I say? The Muggles love me," he smirked.

"Oh come off it," Virginie snapped.

"You look lovely," he said.

"Stop being so nice. We're supposed to be back to our normal selves again, remember?"

"Oh right." He paused, then assumed a haughty expression. "I'm not going to compliment you, de Gaulle, because I don't beg. Ever. And complimenting you would be showing weakness."

She giggled.

"You do look wonderful, though," he whispered, bending close to kiss her. "And if we're free to be downright crude if we want from now on, I have to tell you: I'm going to fuck you raw tonight."

"Mmmmmm," she moaned softly, kissing his lips once more.

"And what's more," he added, "we're going to do every single position that was impossible while you were pregnant."

The song ended, and Draco gave her his signature burning look, practically melting her into a puddle on the floor. He took her hand and led her through the aisles between tables and finally out the reception hall's doors. They headed for their room at the inn, stopping only to steal a quick, passionate kiss in the moonlight.

When they'd reached their room, Draco pushed the door shut without breaking her gaze. He advanced toward her with the same burning desire in his eyes as he'd had at the reception, causing her legs to wobble dangerously.

"I've been waiting so long for this," he said, one hand stroking her face and the other buried in her hair as he kissed her deeply.

"Me too," she whispered, her breathing deep from the passion of their kiss.

They stood there, kissing for a few moments. She unbuttoned his jacket and slid it from his shoulders, then began to unbutton his crisp collared shirt. His body was still hard, as it had been when he'd played Quidditch, and she ached to finally feel it above her. When she'd taken his shirt off, she ran her hands up and down his chiseled stomach. She felt him twitch slightly, and she grinned through her kisses.

He moved her slowly toward the bed, and she felt him reach around to unzip her dress. It slid silently onto the floor, now just a bundle of aqua satin, and he edged her onto the bed, he now wearing only his trousers and she wearing a strapless bra, thong, and heels. She sat on the bed and he stood above her, looking down. She hastily unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, letting them fall to the floor.

He tilted his head back as she licked and bit just under his navel. Blood was coursing through her body, vibrating in her ears. She could feel her panties becoming increasingly wet. She pulled Draco's boxers off, and he stepped out of them. He stood naked before her as she sat on the edge of the bed.

She licked the head of his cock in slow circles, and she could hear his breathing coming harder and more raggedly. She took him in her mouth, sucking him hard and clutching his ass to push him deeper into her mouth.

After a few minutes, he pushed her by her shoulders slowly onto the bed. His grey eyes gazed passionately into hers before he leaned in and gave her a long, hard kiss. He pushed her legs apart and rested between them, rocking back and forth slightly as he kissed her. She could feel how hard he was, and how very, very long, and she found herself getting wetter and wetter. He pushed her leg up so that her left leg was over his right shoulder, kissing her even more passionately now, and moving down to her neck.

As he kissed and bit down her neck, he ran his right hand over her breasts; then, realizing that she still had her bra on, he reached around to undo it. He must have felt her hesitation, because he stopped and grunted something unintelligible.

"I'm breastfeeding, remember? I don't want you to get a mouthful," she whispered huskily, her breath still coming very fast.

"I'll chance it," he groaned, throwing her bra to the floor.

He kissed and sucked on her breasts and nipples, rubbing the leg that was still thrown over his shoulder. She threw her head back on the pillows and enjoyed the dull, throbbing sensations that were coursing through her body. She'd forgotten how amazing they were together…God, she wanted him…

He began to nibble around her panties, easing them down inch by inch with his teeth. Any nervousness she'd had about having sex post-baby melted away as he kissed her inner thighs before licking and sucking her clit, until she was pulling his hair and begging him to fuck her.

He pulled himself up so that they were face-to-face again and kissed her so deeply it took her breath away. When they pulled away, he reached down and began rubbing his cock in circles around her entrance.

She arched her head back on the pillows and moaned softly. He kissed her erect nipples while still teasing her.

"Fuck me," she begged, raising slightly off the bed to grab his arms and look into his eyes, her mouth open and eyes wild with desire.

He groaned slightly and pushed slowly into her. When he was about halfway in, he stopped. "Are you doing okay?" he whispered. "I don't want to hurt you."

"I'm fine," she assured him. "I'm fine."

When he was completely inside her, she gasped loudly, digging her nails into his back.

"You feel so good," she groaned as he began thrusting in and out of her, his lips hungrily kissing her breasts again. He moaned in response.

It didn't take her long to reach orgasm—she had already been halfway there when they began, anyway, and she began moaning loudly.

"I want it _harder_," she screamed, digging her nails into his ass as he thrust into her.

Obediently, he pushed harder into her, and began quickening his pace. She was moaning constantly now, throwing her head back into the pillows. He groaned loudly and began thrusting so fast she was sure her head would go through the headboard. He slowed for a second to put his hands under her shoulders for support and managed to thrust even harder than he had before.

Virginie moaned so loudly she was sure the people next to them could hear, but she didn't care—she hit her hands on the headboard and screamed as she felt herself coming harder than she ever had before—her whole body was shaking and waves of pleasure were crashing over her again and again, and soon she heard Draco groan loudly and felt his hot semen gush into her.

He dropped his weight onto her, and she ran her fingers through his hair…she'd forgotten how amazing it felt to have him on top of her like this. For a moment, neither of them could speak for being so out of breath, but they looked into one another's eyes and grinned, their breathing still heavy.

"I don't know what to say," she laughed, sticking her tongue out and hoping he'd get the reference. He did.

"Let's do that again," he grinned, flipping her over on her stomach.


	17. Wind Breathes Warning of Its Imminence

Author's Note: I apologise for not updating sooner…I've been a bit busy.

I

She held Preston in her arms. He was sleeping peacefully, having just taken his midnight feeding, and she laid him down gently in his crib. It was June, and he was now three months old and growing rapidly. He had quickly charmed his way into their hearts, and both she and Draco fawned constantly over him; such a lovely baby he was with his golden peach-fuzz hair and rosy cheeks.

Virginie laid him gently in his crib and looked out the window at the darkness surrounding their home. The mist and fog that had hung over the countryside when the Dementors had first fled Azkaban had returned, and it blanketed the landscape, making her shiver. Days had passed and more people were dying—it was almost enough to make you not want to leave the house, ever. Needless to say, they were moving in packs, and she and Draco had taken to bringing Preston to work with them instead of leaving him with Virginie's mother. She shut the window to Preston's room, for it had grown very chilly with the slight breeze. Resisting the urge to drag Preston's crib into her bedroom, she shut the door softly and went downstairs, where she found Draco sitting beside a roaring fire, reading the _Evening Prophet_.

"Anything new?" she asked, sitting near the hearth to warm herself.

"Crabbe's dead," he said tonelessly, as if he couldn't believe it. "Father said he'd disobeyed the Dark Lord, but…" he voice cracked a bit.

She looked up at him and saw the fear etched on his face.

"Virginie," he began.

She pulled herself up and sat next to him in the oversized armchair, looking into his worried grey eyes.

"I…er…I think…"

"Draco, just tell me," she said, placing a hand on his left shoulder as if to steady him.

"I don't think it'll be long before we'll need to go into hiding," he said finally. His hand was shaking as he put down the _Prophet_.

"What about your parents?" she asked.

"Mum wants out," he whispered, as if someone were eavesdropping. "I think Father does, too, but he'll never admit it. I just…we need to figure everything out…but it's coming, V. We can't stay here. It's not safe at all. We're in danger. I haven't succeeded at all in doing what he's said. We need to get out of here fast. We haven't got a secret-keeper for this house…he could find us in a heartbeat. I wouldn't be surprised if Father was the one to do us in."

She nodded, biting her lower lip. "Where shall we go?"

"Well, I've been thinking," he answered. "And…well, we should take some people with us."

"Who?"

"Hermione and Ron," he said firmly. "They're targets, V. Father told me…_laughed_ about it. I can't stay involved with this. Even if Father were to die, I'd still have to answer to…._him_."

Virginie nodded, still thinking about where they were to go. A thought dawned on her. "Draco….what about my parents?"

"If we can persuade them, I want them to go with us," he said. "We're all Pureblood, of course, but Father and I have gotten you lot in trouble. Why did you get involved with me?" he asked, his voice cracking. "I've ruined your life."

"Oh Draco, don't," she said quietly, wrapping her arms around him and stroking his hair. "You've not ruined my life…I've made my own decisions, thank you! I chose you. It's not your fault at all. I knew what I was getting myself into."

"Did you?" he asked, finally meeting her eyes. "Did you honestly?"

"No," she admitted. "But I have promised I'll always love you, and I meant it when I said it and I mean it when I tell you now that I love you and that you've not done anything to ruin my life. You've made my life better than I ever could have imagined."

"I'm glad you still love me," he said. "I have fucked things up for you."

She made a hand gesture suggesting that she would have been in danger no matter what.

"If we are to go into hiding," she began slowly, still piecing things together, "I want our secret-keeper living with us…"

He nodded. "That's what I was thinking, too. I think Hermione should be our secret-keeper."

She nodded in agreement. "Father knows how to perform the complicated bit of magic it takes. Since we'll all be living together, it shan't be too difficult."

An idea dawned on her. "Draco! I've got it! Mum and Dad have got a big country house in France—it would be perfect. We'd be safe there. They've got all sorts of enchantments that Dumbledore himself put on it before he died. They shan't have lifted even though he's gone…all sorts of Untraceable and Unplottable Charms, Muggle-Repelling charms—not what we're looking for, of course—and we could still work for the French Ministry, you know—they're way ahead of the Ministry here…when we went the other day they had Aurors at every turn, you can't Apparate into the building at all, only Disapparate to go home, not to mention they don't let you work past dark….Draco, we should. Dad can go back to working there, too…they've been aching to have him back."

A light gleamed in his eyes, then he finally smiled, though it was small. "That is excellent, V. I…God you're brilliant. Your parents will be here tomorrow morning, and we can talk about it," he said, finally looking more relaxed. "Our house is very safe, love, but I don't want to risk my father's treachery. He'll tell, you know he will."

"I know, darling," she said, nuzzling her head in the crook of his neck.

"So what's this house like, then?" he asked, pulling her closer to him.

"Just lovely!" she breathed. "We used to go when we were kids, but none of the rest of our family knew about it—Mum and Dad wanted it to be secret; they always said they didn't want any unwelcome visitors," she laughed. "Now look what we're doing with it…quite the same purpose, eh?

"But anyway," she continued after first kissing Draco's lips softly, "It's quite large: four floors and four different wings…countless bedrooms, a kitchen the size of Paris. It'll be quite easy for everyone to have their own wing—it'll be quite like everyone having their own house."

He gave a soft noise of approval and nestled his head further in her hair.

"It'll be just like home, darling," she whispered, softly massaging his side with her fingers, trying to help him relax. "After a long day at work, we'll come home, relax….some nights we can let Guinevere put Preston to bed and have some Mummy/Daddy time…"

He gave a soft laugh and entwined his fingers with hers. "I do love Mummy/Daddy time," he said softly, kissing the top of her head. "How very far we are from the days at Hogwarts when we could simply retreat to my Suite to have a little rendezvous…"

She slowly raised herself on the chair and straddled him, kissing his lips very softly. "We're all alone now, love," she whispered, biting his lips.

He groaned and placed a hand on her upper thigh.

"You're so uptight, Draco," she fretted, kissing down his neck and slowly unbuttoning his shirt. "It's not healthy for you, you know…"

She bit her way down his stomach, stopping only to lick the very fine trail of dark blond hair leading into his trousers, causing him to groan softly. She eased his pants and boxers down around his ankles, pushing the footstool closer to the chair so that she could kneel on it as she began kissing and biting his hard thighs while massaging his hardening cock with her hand. She began sucking his inner thigh at a particularly sensitive spot, and she heard his sharp intake of breath.

"Are you beginning to relax, darling?" she asked, running the tip of her tongue up and down his thick, hard shaft.

"Yes," he gasped, grabbing a handful of her hair.

She took him in her mouth and let out her own sigh of pleasure—she loved pleasing him this way. She felt him release the breath that she hadn't realized he'd been holding, and she risked a look at him. His head was leaned back against the chair, his eyes closed and mouth slightly open in pleasure. Satisfied, she removed him from her mouth and he gave a groan of protest. She began stroking him with her hand and kneeled lower, licking his balls delicately. He gave a load groan and pulled her hair back away from her face so that he could see her giving him the intense pleasure he was experiencing. Her pouty red lips wrapped themselves around his thick shaft once again, and he gave a shudder of pleasure as he looked down on his perfect blonde wife giving him the relaxation and pleasure he desperately needed.

He was panting heavily, and she could feel his cock throbbing as she thrust him in her mouth over and over, sucking hard and licking his engorged head hungrily. Just as she'd pushed him all the way to the back of her throat, he gave a great moan and she felt him erupt in her mouth. She willingly swallowed his seed, sitting up to look at him before licking her lips like a satisfied cat. He pulled her close and kissed her cheek, still panting.

"Did you enjoy your shot of Draco?" he asked her with an evil grin.

"It was scrumptious," she replied.

II

"De Gaulle, get a move on it, the Russian ambassador will be here momentarily," Hestia snapped as she walked by Virginie, who was very nervously applying lipstick. It was her first meeting with the Russian ambassador, and she wanted to make a good impression. She was, after all, representing France…which was the main reason she'd kept her maiden name to use at work; everyone, after all, knew she was married to Draco Malfoy, but the French Ministry seemed to think it looked better if a de Gaulle was representing France rather than a Malfoy.

Hestia, her boss, returned momentarily with Hermione by her side, levitating Virginie's briefcase in midair. Hermione had also transferred to the French Ministry, still as a Rights Representative. Today they had to meet with a Russian ambassador who would also be with a Rights Representative—he and Hermione had business to attend to, and they needed ambassadors present.

They hastened to a third-floor conference room, where they were to meet the two representatives. Virginie did a last-minute check of her hair and makeup while Hermione examined her notes once more, making small last-minute notations on the margins, which had already been filled with her own revisions.

The door opened and Allegra, an Administrative Assistant on this floor, asked two men to enter. One was rather tall and lanky, built along the lines of Ron, and the other was medium height, muscular, and—her heart sank. It was Chris.

"Good day," the lanky man said in heavily accented English. "I am Dmitri."

"_Bonjour_ and welcome to the French Ministry, sir," Virginie said. "My name is Virginie de Gaulle, and I am a French ambassador here at the Ministry."

They shook hands, and Chris stared stupidly as Hermione introduced herself—unnecessarily—to him. She refused to act embarrassed or anything of the sort and instead led them all to the waiting conference table. Virginie read the two lawyers the case and why they were here while Chris continued to gape stupidly. Needless to say, he didn't listen to anything Hermione had to say and the Russians walked away feeling very stupid indeed, having lost their case. As Dmitri paid Hermione the Galleons that were owed to her client and herself, Chris stared at Virginie, mouth agape.

"Close your mouth, you look like you're missing a chromosome," she hissed out of the side of her mouth.

Dmitri excused himself on the pretence of seeking out an old colleague—escorted by two Aurors, he left—and Hermione turned to Chris.

"Well then," she said brusquely. "Shall we three go have a drink?"

Virginie shot her the Look of Death, but Chris nodded vehemently.

"So," he said, tucking in to a tart and a goblet of pumpkin juice, "you're the last person I expected to see as the French ambassador."

"Perhaps you ought to check your itinerary then," Hermione snapped, sipping her Butterbeer gingerly.

"You look great," he said. She noticed there was no wedding ring on his finger.

"Thanks," she said simply.

"So are you married?" Hermione asked, as if reading Virginie's mind.

"Me? No," he said. She also noticed he had replaced a lot of his muscle with fat—he was rather chubby about the waist now.

"Hmmph," Hermione snorted. "Well I'm married to Ron now, just to keep you up to speed."

"Oh that's great!" he said. "I always knew you would, though. That's really great, Hermione." This was getting awkward.

He turned to Virginie. "Would you like to go out?" he asked earnestly. "Tonight, perhaps? For old time's sake. I'm staying over in Paris for a week, see. It'd be great to see you again."

"You can see me right now," she spat.

"You know what I meant," he intoned, gesturing with his hands. "Maybe….pick up where we left off."

Hermione had a look of disgust on her face and looked as if she wished she'd never mentioned the lunchtime drink.

"Well, Chris, funny thing," she spat superciliously, "I don't think _my husband_ would like me to look at you, let alone go anywhere alone with you."

"H—husband?"

"Yes, that's right," she spat, waving her finger at him to show him the enormous diamond on her finger.

"Blimey," he said, looking at the ring. "Who you married to?"

She laughed and looked at Hermione, who was also suppressing a giggle.

"Who?" he insisted.

"Draco Malfoy," she said, straightening herself up in her chair.

"_Draco MALFOY_?!" he exclaimed, and people turned to look.

"Keep your voice down," she hissed. "Yes, Draco Malfoy."

"Bet he doesn't fuck you as good as I did."

"Actually, he does, and better," she responded coldly. "I don't wish to talk about this. I am a mother."

"_WHAT_?!" he roared.

She rose from the table with Hermione and ignored him as he chased after them. They stormed into their office and Chris, not realizing that only employees could cross the magical barrier the Aurors had put in effect, ran into what looked like thin air. People laughed and applauded appreciatively at the Russian ambassador sprawled on his back in the corridor.

Draco laughed in bed that night when she told him the story.

"He actually said, 'Bet he doesn't fuck you as good as I did?'" Draco called to her—she was in the bathroom brushing her hair and he was lying in bed.

"Yes!"

He laughed. "Oh God, how many things are wrong with that sentence? What poor grammar! What a giant, slimy-nosed git!"

"Oh I know," Virginie agreed, climbing into bed beside him. "So crude and uncalled for."

"He misses you," Draco chided gently, poking her stomach and laying the package of Pepper Imps he'd been nibbling on the nightstand.

She rolled her eyes.

"Bet he hasn't gotten anyone nearly as beautiful as you since he left."

"I'm sure you're right," she said stiffly.

Draco leaned over and began kissing her. "Am I bigger than he is?" he asked.

"Draco!" she admonished, hitting him softly on his arm. "Is this really the time to ask me? When you're on top of me and you've got my arms pinned down? What do you expect me to say?"

He laughed and leaned in to kiss her. "I just wondered."

"You're bigger and thicker…happy now?" She stuck her tongue out at him.

"Hope you aren't just saying that…"

"I'm not! He was probably seven inches, you're about nine. And you get so much harder than he ever did."

"Oh really?" he asked, putting all his weight on top of her and kissing her hard.

"Mmmmm," she moaned in response.

He suddenly broke off from her and gave her a blazing look. "How many blokes have you been with?"

"_What_?"

"I just wondered. I just realised I'd never asked you that before, and I'm curious."

"Draco, I thought we were going to have sex…" she whined, sitting up in bed.

"We can still have sex. I'm sure it's not that many…not enough to turn me off."

"Give me the specifics of what you want," she said wearily.

"I want it broken down: blowjobs, eating you out, and straight sex."

She sighed and glared at him. "I hope you know I'll be asking you these same questions, _darling_."

He grinned. "I wouldn't expect anything less."

She groaned and said, "I've given five blokes blowjobs including you, had sex with three men including you, and two men have eaten me out _including you_. Satisfied?"

"That's it?" he asked. "I thought you'd have been getting around at Beauxbatons. I was spying on you at Hogwarts the whole time, mind, and knew you weren't doing anything there...but blimey, I'm relieved."

"You spied on me at Hogwarts?"

"I was hopelessly in love with you," he said smoothly, giving her his signature burning look that melted her into the floor.

"I thought you just wanted to fuck me."

"No, I was hopelessly in love with you first and foremost," he said, leaning over to tickle her. "Fucking you was a bonus."

"Why didn't you ever tell me this before?" she asked, staring into his grey eyes.

"What was I supposed to say seventh year when I could finally approach you? 'Virginie de Gaulle, I'm madly in love with you. Let's date and walk hand-in-hand for the rest of our lives.'? I think not. 'I couldn't pay for a view like that' is much more macho, much more debonair."

"Oh, stupid machismo!" she exclaimed, glowering. "Also, I cannot believe you just used the word 'debonair.'"

He pinched her cheek. "Here's your count, darling, and I think you'll be pleasantly surprised: eleven girls have given me blowjobs including you, I've slept with two women including you, and I've gone down on one girl—you."

"I'm the only person you've…you know…"

"Yes," he replied unabashedly.

"But you're so…good at it," she said stupidly. "I mean…er…sorry…I just thought it would be more. I thought you'd say you'd slept with at least fifteen girls."

"Fifteen? I had to save myself for you. God, I was hopelessly in love with you from the moment we met in fourth year."

"You should have just let me know that instead of acting besotted with Pansy _fucking _Parkinson!" she snapped.

"You wouldn't have wanted me anyway," he said simply. "Besides, I needed some experience before getting to you, no matter how….er….repulsive."

She smacked his arm again. "As if I was that experienced."

"You have no idea how good you are," he groaned, kissing her deeply. He was on top of her once more, stroking her hair as they talked eye-to-eye, their noses touching. It felt incredibly intimate to be talking so candidly to him at such close proximity.

"I can't believe you were in love with me in fourth year!" she exclaimed again, still not comprehending. "You always glared at me when I was around, and you always had Pansy with you!"

"Like I was doing anything with Pansy as a fourth year!" he said. "Well, she gave me a blowjob once, but I didn't touch her at all…"

"Hmm," Virginie said. "Why did you like me so much?"

"You were different," he said immediately. "You weren't silly, and you were confident, intelligent, bloody gorgeous…you were all-around perfect."

She blushed. "Not _that_ perfect." She paused. "Eleven girls have given you blowjobs? How do I compare? Now I'm the one with the inferiority complex!"

He laughed and kissed her. His weight felt comforting on top of her. "No one knows how to give a good blowjob like you, V. Most of them were in fourth and fifth year…girls that age don't know what the hell they're doing."

She giggled, having felt reassured, and pressed her hands against his chest.

"Just out of curiosity," he said, and she groaned at what horrid question she would have to answer next. "Who were those five boys you gave blowjobs to? I'm one, Chris is two for sure, but who were the other three?"

"I'm not answering you," she said firmly. "I'm not, you'll just get mad."

"Don't make me tickle you, de Gaulle," he said smoothly, holding his fingers up as if to demonstrate his point.

"I don't care, _Malfoy_," she snapped. "You'll hate me forever if I tell you."

"Oh, bullshit," he snapped. "As long as it wasn't my father, for Christ's sake, what do I care?"

"As a matter of fact…"

"What?!"

"Just kidding," she grinned, sticking her tongue out.

"Who was it then?"

"Two of them were boys you never knew, from Beauxbatons…anddddd one you do know…"

"Someone at Hogwarts?" he asked.

She nodded.

"It can't have been in sixth year—that's when I was following you. It was in fourth year? Fourth year, during the Triwizard, you gave some bloke a blowjob?"

She nodded. "It was…my Yule Ball date."

Draco pondered this, trying to remember who her date was. She hoped it wouldn't come to him…

"Oh fuck me," he said a moment later. "_Potter_?! Oh Christ, I need a lie down." He didn't move off her, though.

"You made me tell you!" she exclaimed. "I said you'd get mad!"

"Mad?" he asked, his face flushing. Then, without warning, he burst out laughing and rolled off her to lay on his back. "Oh God, Mrs. Malfoy gives The Chosen One a blowjob in fourth year! Classic! Total irony! Never saw that one coming!"

She pinched his arm and he looked over at her, laughter still dancing in his grey eyes. "How was it, then?"

"Gross," she said truthfully, and he began roaring with laughter once more.

"What happened?" he asked between laughs.

"He couldn't control himself and he came all over my favourite pair of dress robes!" she snapped, still livid about losing that particular pair.

Draco couldn't stop laughing, and tears came to his eyes. "Oh fuck me, Virginie, that's gold right there. Oh Christ, that's rich."

She turned over on her side to face away from him; she wasn't really mad, but she wanted him to think she was. He was still giving small chortles of laughter ten minutes later, when he finally noticed her lying on her side, away from him.

"Baby…" he crooned, leaning over and kissing her shoulder.

He stopped and she heard a bag rustling, and a second later she was flipped onto her back. Draco kissed her hard on the mouth, slowly edging her negligee down off her shoulders before raising her hips and casting it to the floor.

He put something in his mouth and wrapped his mouth around her erect nipple, and she gave a gasp of pleasure as she felt a burning sensation unrelated to his lips—he'd put a Pepper Imp in his mouth and was kissing her with it, making her burn pleasurably, her desire for him lingering even after his mouth had left. He finally reached her pussy and put his tongue to her clit. She gave a shriek of pleasure and threw her head back into the pillows as he buried his face between her legs and ate her raw. She thrashed about on the bed as he rubbed her clit with his thumb and slid his tongue in and out of her tight slit, the Pepper Imps leaving her with a burning sensation that heightened her pleasure.

After rubbing his erection against her tight folds, he rolled her gently on her side and pressed his chest against her back, pushing into her from the side. He held one of her legs in the air as he thrust in and out of her, putting it down after a bit to grab a Pepper Imp and begin rubbing it against her clit as he thrust his cock balls-deep inside her tight little pussy.

She was screaming now—she'd lost control. She didn't care if her mother or father heard, or the nanny, or Ron or Hermione. All she cared about was the burning sensation overcoming her entire body as Draco rode her harder and harder until her core exploded all over Draco. He flipped her over on her back after she'd come, and she realized he hadn't come yet.

"Potter gave me a nice little idea," he panted, pressing her breasts together and squeezing his throbbing cock between them. After a few minutes, his breathing became more ragged and he stopped and began stroking his cock as he watched her play with her nipples. A second later, he came all over her breasts and stomach, and Virginie wiped it off with her fingers and licked it. He rubbed the rest of it in with his dick.

"Potter may have ruined your dress robes, but he gave me that spectacular idea," Draco drawled a second later, when he was holding her tightly, their stomachs touching. "But next time I'm going to bathe you in it."


	18. The Morning Ripped You Away

It started like any other morning.

Virginie's mother stood drinking her morning coffee as she waved good-bye to Draco and Virginie, who both were allowed to use the Floo Network to commute to work. They each gave one last wave to her mother before disappearing in a swirl of green flame.

It was when she arrived that she knew something was wrong.

First, there was a sense of unease as she and Draco walked through the lobby. Witches and wizards were huddled over _Prophets_, and as they passed them the onlookers looked shocked at their presence, as if they had no right to interrupt their reading.

The sense of unease increased when she walked through the door to her department. All eyes were immediately on her, and her supervisor, Hestia, eyed her warily and begrudgingly said, "Erm…Virginie, darling, why don't you come to my office?"

She glanced toward Hermione's desk, which was, oddly, vacant, and followed Hestia. She was petrified that she was about to be fired. Hestia quietly shut the door and, instead of sitting behind the desk, sank into the chair next to Virginie's.

"Have you seen _The Daily Prophet_?" she whispered, her lips pursed tightly.

Virginie could imagine how puzzled her expression appeared. "…No." Her stomach lurched. Hermione. Ron. Harry.

Hestia gingerly held out the paper to her, and she gaped at the headline:

**MINISTRY EXECUTIVE AND KNOWN DEATH EATER, LUCIUS MALFOY, FOUND DEAD**

"Draco," she gasped.

Hestia reached to place a hand on her shoulder, but she was already at the door, running for Draco. She ran into him halfway, his face ashen.

"I have to go—Mother," he gasped.

"We need to get out of here," she hissed.

"We're leaving now."

"No, I mean out of our house, Draco. We need to get to the manor."

He nodded vigorously. "Go home and pack. I'll get Mother and meet you at home."

She nodded as he Disapparated. With a turn, she did the same.

Her mother and father were already at her house, their trunks stacked neatly at the front door. Her father was holding Preston and murmuring spells of preservation while her mother was flinging her wand desperately around the upstairs bedrooms, anxiously trying to remember everything. The life she and Draco had made in this home was demolished in seconds, and she felt tears sting her eyes as she took Preston from her father, looking sadly at the few trunks that would need to suffice.

She jumped when the front door opened, but was relieved to see Draco and Narcissa had arrived, Narcissa with one basic trunk and a lace handkerchief dabbing her red eyes. Silently, they all levitated trunks into the back of the house, where they wordlessly performed Disillusionment charms on themselves and Preston, mounted their broomsticks, and were off.

She cried the whole way.


	19. Red Hot Summer

The weather was brutal, the sun beating down on them as they lay beneath it. Sizzling sounds came from the nearby grill, where Virginie's father was cooking, Lisette anxiously supervising the marinade that was flowing from his wand onto the chicken. It was July. A month had passed since the de Gaulles and Malfoys had fled to the French countryside, and they now were all lounging in the center courtyard that was formed by the square house. Preston, Virginie, and Draco were all near the pool, Virginie soaking up all the sun she could. Draco and Preston, their fair skin protected by a sun-reflecting spell, were playing quietly on a beach towel beneath a large umbrella. Isolated from them all on the far side of the pool, Narcissa sat beneath the small cabana, wearing a black dress despite the heat. Her large dark sunglasses made it impossible to tell if she was sleeping or observing them all.

"It seems," Etienne said, sitting next to Virginie on a lawn chair, "rather selfish and cowardly of us to be relaxing poolside whilst the rest of the world is living in fear of You-Know-Who, huddling in the dark and cold."

"They're in Britain, Papa," Virginie replied. "Britain is always cold."

"Besides," Draco interjected, "What good would it do us? I rather find it more valuable to protect our own family. And Ron and Hermione running off with Harry? That's ridiculous. Throwing themselves into the fire, in my opinion," he spat.

"How very Slytherin of you," Etienne scoffed.

"Oh, Etienne," Lisette interrupted with her smooth voice. "With the power you hold, we would be gone in a minute. There is no sense in us fighting—you would be captured, I just know it. And you are secret-keeper…we would all be gone. You must not leave."

"I never said I was leaving," he grumbled, disturbed by his wife's worried tone. "I just meant it seems rather…insensitive."

"I'd rather protect my family than help fight someone else's war," Draco snapped.

"Someone else's war? This is your son's future we are talking about, and you're not concerned about the future of the country? Do you want Preston to grow up being taught to hide and be a coward?" Etienne asked.

"I want him to realize that family is most important," Draco replied. "And yes, I realize how it sounds, hiding instead of fighting, but I want my family to be together when this ends."

From behind them, Narcissa let out an audible sniff.

"Mother?" Draco called.

"I agree with you, my darling," she said softly and coolly. "If your father had never been involved, he would still be here."

"Etienne, you have upset her," Lisette chastised.

"I'm sorry, Narcissa," he said emptily, rising and returning to the grill.

"Children, he's just very frustrated—everyone stuck in this one house," Lisette said softly, so that Etienne wouldn't hear.

"We know, Maman," Virginie replied. "Could you please make him stop? Honestly, there is protection all over the land, it's not just within the house and courtyard. For our sake, just send him out for a walk or something."

Lisette giggled and shook her head. "He's very grouchy. He's never been cooped up like this before."

"Lisette, it's a four-wing, four story manor house," Draco snapped. "He could get lost for days without seeing us."

"Yes, but he has never been confined to one area," she explained patiently.

Virginie rolled her eyes and returned to her sunbathing.

"Darling, I'm taking Preston inside for his nap," Draco said coolly, taking the fussy baby into the door nearest them, which led to a small sitting room where they kept a spare crib for Preston.

"Maman, Papa, please do not be so snappy," Virginie requested, still in her lawn chair. "Relax, and be happy to be alive."

"It is more that I dislike the oppression. How do you say? –Cabin fever," her father replied, scooping the chicken onto a large platter that also held roasted potatoes and asparagus.

"I know, Papa, but it is wearing," she said, finally rising from her chair to gently help Narcissa to the outdoor dining table.

"My dear girl," Narcissa said in thanks as she grasped Virginie's arm for support. She reached down to grab her martini from the side table and they headed to the table. Draco joined them.

The conversation was practically nonexistent, although Virginie noticed Narcissa staring quite often at Etienne. Lisette was absentmindedly eating, looking rather distracted as she ate. Draco stared hungrily at Virginie, who was still in her bikini at the table. She snapped at him with her eyes, willing him to look away. It was embarrassing.

After eating, Narcissa and Lisette returned to the kitchen for their usual post-lunch coffee and cleanup, even though it would be coffee for Lisette and, typically, a martini for Narcissa. Etienne retreated to his "game room," where he frequently went to play cards or read.

Virginie and Draco remained poolside, Draco sitting with his legs dangling over the edge of the pool whilst Virginie pulled herself onto a raft to relax.

"Darling?" Draco said quietly.

"Hmm?"

"Have you noticed…forgive me for even having to ask…but…have you noticed my mother paying your father an abnormal amount of attention?"

Virginie jumped and sat up on the raft to look at him. "What do you mean?"

"Well she is my mother, but I just noticed…she looks at him very much."

"I hadn't really noticed," she said, though after she thought for a moment, she could see what he meant. "Well…maybe more than usual. Perhaps she is as annoyed with him as we are."

"Maybe," he said quietly.

"But she would never…"

He snorted. "Do you know my mother?"

"I know the mother who was constantly faithful to Lucius Malfoy," she snapped, unsure of why she was losing her temper like this.

"Well Lucius Malfoy is dead," he spat. "Why should she be faithful to him now?"

"She's been sulking for the past month, eating nothing but drinking like her life depends on it. I've not seen her without a martini in her hands since we arrived."

"Can you blame her? Her life partner killed while she is in the house, but she was spared? She has to feel awfully guilty. But she has needs."

"Needs that should not involve my father, if that's what you're hinting at," Virginie snapped, her eyes venomous.

"She has needs," he fired back, his grey eyes glinting.

"My mother has needs, too."

"Needs that apparently do not involve your father."

She jumped off her raft angrily and advanced toward Draco, her eyes flashing. "And just _what_," she hissed, "does that mean?"

Draco shrugged. "She snuck out a few days ago."

"First of all, my mother is nearly sixty. I don't think the term 'sneaking out' applies to her. Secondly, who would she even be sneaking out to see?"

"I have my theories," he said bitterly.

"Well?" she prompted.

He smirked. "Laurent D'Ivoire."

"No!" she exclaimed, and he hushed her.

"Quiet, de Gaulle," he hissed. "I saw them together when I was getting food. She didn't realize it was me because I was disguised."

"Why did you hide this from me?"

"I was waiting for the right time to tell you."

"And that time is now?"

"Well, if it wasn't, I'm too late, aren't I?" he smirked. She smacked his arm.

"I didn't realize my parents had problems," she said.

"They sleep in separate rooms!" he snapped.

She was quiet, feeling foolish—she was the child who didn't realize the parents were unhappy until they were telling her about their divorce.

"You really think—" she took a breath. "Narcissa?"

"I think so," he said pensively. "I think that is why your mother is so distracted and your father is so grouchy. Your mother is anxious to see her lover, while your father is anxious to have a new lover."

"So you don't think they've…"

"No," he said simply.

"Why does this not bother you?"

"I try not to think about it," he said.

At that exact moment, Lisette leaned out the kitchen door.

"Children," she called. "I'm running into town…I shan't be back for dinner."

"Look at her outfit," Draco hissed under his breath.

Virginie saw her mother was wearing a Muggle dress that was, indeed, incredibly revealing. She shuddered. Laurent was one of her father's business partners. He was incredibly wealthy, and incredibly snooty. She could not believe her mother was doing this.

They bade her good-bye and went into the house for a break from the scorching sun. Narcissa and Etienne were nowhere to be found. Draco shot her a knowing look, and she glared back at him.

"That means nothing," she snapped.

He raised his eyebrows in his characteristic smirk. "Testy, testy," he taunted. "Some of us are more willing to look adultery in the face than others."

She ignored him, retreating to their suite to shower. The rest of the day went the same way—Draco shooting her knowing looks, Virginie rolling her eyes, the two of them being short with one another.

Virginie's mother arrived home at the time that Virginie was just preparing for bed. She reeked of expensive French cologne and was quite flushed. She murmured her goodnights to Virginie and Draco and hurried to the wing of the house she shared with Etienne, albeit in different rooms. Another knowing, judgmental look from Draco sent her over the edge.

"Sleep elsewhere tonight," she snapped, slamming the door in his smug face.


End file.
